


I dare you to pull the trigger

by LesleyJean97



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Fluff and Angst, Humor, I have a bad taste in humor, Inspector Höwedes has his own brand of humour, Irony, M/M, Sexual Content, Supporting Characters - Freeform, Thomas being Thomas, at least try to bring some humor into this, but sometimes being a real badass, cameo Julian Draxler, detective Manuel, not sure whether I should tag it as implicit or explicit so be it, poor lewy, you-know-who being the stereotypical supervillain in comics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24768775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesleyJean97/pseuds/LesleyJean97
Summary: There was a beat missed, followed by a brooding silence as they both froze while contemplating respectively. At last it was Thomas who detached himself from the cocoon of thoughts first and broke the silence, daringly challenged, ‘Go on then, pull the trigger.’
Relationships: Benedikt Höwedes & Manuel Neuer, Mats Hummels & Thomas Müller, Thomas Müller/Manuel Neuer, side Mats Hummels/Benedikt Höwedes
Comments: 10
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this time the captain duo are a couple of crime-busters. Being a big fan of Sherlock Holmes myself I keep thinking what it is like if they were both detectives - with Manuel being Holmes but a bit more considerate and shy than the famous detective and Thomas being Watson, but a badass version with wicked sense of humor. I figure it would be both thrilling and enjoyable to combat crime with your beloved so here comes the story. Hope you enjoy reading this!
> 
> P.s. I'm not a native speaker so there might be some words or phrases misused. Feel free tell me in the comments :D

Manuel Neuer was a detective who earned his reputation by helping the neighbors solve some modest cases in the times when detectives were mostly fictional characters living in the old tales. He and his sidekick, Thomas Müller, lived in an old apartment at Säbener Street where there were never in lack of bustle and hustle. They were schoolmates during high school, at Bayern Munich Institute, sharing the same dormitory and thus becoming close friends. Unfortunately, like what happened to any other exquisitely-narrated friendship in the drama, they parted away after graduating from high school, going down different paths without any contact for years.

But fortunately for them, the story turned to a delightful and providential twist when they were reunited one summer night at a bar. Manuel was seeking for some comfort there at that time, invaded by a series of problems. An unsolved case had been haunting him for days which could rival a Gordian Knot, for instance, and apart from all the other messes his dad managed to twist the knife at that stage by giving him an untimely call, demanding him to pick on a decent job instead of being a ridiculous so-called detective.

However, what really got under his skin was that his earnings could barely cover the expenditures and he was confronted with the dilemma of being swept off from his rooms by his landlord. He was bemoaning his ill-fate and trying to get himself plastered when his old acquaintance suddenly showed up out of nowhere. From what Manuel could see, Thomas still looked much like what he used to be in high school, a lanky frame and soft messy curls with a mischievously boyish grin that never left his face. And a pair of charmingly bright eyes that always aglow with joy and vigour. They worked wonder on Manuel past and present.

They exchanged some missing particulars about their personal lives throughout the past years. Thomas confided to him that he was roaming around the city these days and that he just quitted his previous job. Having downed cups after cups and swigged bottles after bottles, they slowly proceeded into the first flush of drunkenness, sizzled with excitement as they were now both tired and emotional. Manuel brought him back to his apartment and there they had a wonderful night, feverishly necking and caressing in an intimate way with a mixture of hot breath and the smell of liquor wafting freely around them in the air. The next day Thomas suggested that he moved in and went halves with him, which rendered Manuel over the moon. Besides, it was also a timely help for him as it pulled him out from the bog of being in heavy debt. In retrospect, Manuel assumed he might have saved the world in another life to catch a lucky break like this. That was the story of how the two of them finally settled in the lofty, well lighted apartment at Säbener Street, living under the same roof once again.

Fragments of memories on that night flowed into Manuel’s dream, leaving a hearty smile of happiness still lingering on his lips when he woke up this morning to find out that Thomas was by his side, purring softly in a sound sleep. Sometimes Thomas would try to find excuses to crawl onto Manuel’s bed instead of slumbering in his own comfy bedroom and every time Manuel would fake a sigh of resignation outwardly whilst inwardly cheering in exhilaration in the meantime. And that was exactly what happened last night as usual after Thomas managed to talk him into sharing a bed together on an excuse of having his heart broken after seeing the finale of GOT.

 _Some things never change._ Manuel sniffed out a chuckle, rubbing his weary eyes and getting out of bed quickly, not forgetting to leave a loving peck on Thomas’ cheek before shuffling to the bathroom to get himself washed. Someone called Robert Lewandowski emailed him three days ago to arrange an appointment today at 10 o’clock, and now it was already 9. Manuel figured he better got dressed and whipped up breakfast as quickly as he could so that he could at least save some time to do his homework to gear up to be entrusted with this case.

Robert appeared on the doorstep at 10 o’clock precisely. He was a good-looking young man wearing a grey hoodie with the hood covering half the face, almost pulling down to his eyes. He was pretty anxious, obviously. Manuel could sense his panic even though his features were veiled in shadows.

‘Mr. Lewandowski, what’s your problem?’ inquired Manuel briefly while led him to the sitting room. However Robert failed to give a direct response. For a minute or two he just stood there with a forlorn face and swallowed several times. So Manuel changed his way of inquiry, ‘Mr. Lewandowski, what’s haunting you so much that makes you come here all the way from the countryside?’

Robert was just taking off the hood when he was hit by that very question after he was sure that this place was safe, ‘How do you know I live in the countryside?’

‘The mud told me about it.’ replied Manuel as-a-matter-of-factly, ‘If you live downtown then I presume you must roam around every street, every corner of the city to get your shoes and trousers all plastered with mud like this. But clearly you can’t be doing that–’ Robert was in awe of his speech, not even realizing his jaw slightly dropped in a funny, comical way, ‘–and there was a torrential rain in the western mountain area last night. So I assume you come from there.’

Robert froze for a moment, completely doing nothing but staring at Manuel in astonishment with his big blue eyes, ‘Fantastic.’ He murmured, a hint of admiration in his voice this time. _A good first impression, check._

‘Take your seat, please. Coffee or tea?’ asked Manuel courteously.

‘Coffee would do.’ Robert replied, settling himself in within the soft cushions. Now he appeared to be much more relaxed after taking a sip of hot coffee as the colour was slowly brought back to his cheeks. He had barely put down the coffee mug before Manuel opened his mouth.

‘The pastime is over, I perceive. So, Mr. Lewandowski, could you please tell me why you are here?’

Robert chewed on his lips in thoughtful silence for a while whilst vacantly stared at the coffee mug with his hollow eyes as if he had been hexed. Clearly it cost him an infinite amount of strength to speak it out because he appeared to look horrifically harassed and his face was once again drained of colour when he finally managed to croak out the words, ‘I think someone is trying to kill me.’

On hearing this, Manuel leaned closer to him to better scrutinize him through narrowed eyes, ‘What makes you think so?’

Robert heaved a heavy sigh, ‘I know this may sound ridiculous, but please hear me out before passing judgment.’ He babbled with bashfulness, ‘I turned to police before but they slammed the door on me, and asked me if I had hysteria. I was at a loss of what to do and led a suffering life for days until an e-pal recommend you to me. Trust me, I wouldn’t come bothering you, had I not been driven to the corner. You are my last hope.’

In answer to his sincere imploring look, Manuel let out a hearty grin, ‘Let’s see what we can do for you. Please, tell me what’s bothering you.’

Robert breathed a sigh of relief before embarking on his narration, ‘It all started two weeks ago – I still lived downtown at that time, living alone in rented rooms. I’m a technician, by the way, I work for the FCB Corporation. It was in the morning of Apr. 13th, my colleague handed me a letter and told me he encountered someone outside the building and that he entrusted him to deliver this letter to me. It said something like ‘we know your name’ and ‘we’ve been watching you for a while’, things like that.’ He paused for a moment to wind down, taking a mouthful coffee and continuing his narration, ‘Anyway, I didn’t take it seriously then, thinking it was merely a prank. So I just tossed it in the trash bin without further thought. Two days later I found another letter on the doorstep of my apartment. Here–’ He produced a piece of crumpled paper and handed it to Manuel. There was only one sentence:

_We’ll come for you. N._

‘And what’s this signature?’ Manuel pointed at a blurred printed signature at the bottom of the paper. It was half soaked off, rendering it impossible to make out.

‘I don’t know. But the first letter bears a similar signature. But it’s a single stroke, if my memory serves me well.’

Manuel cocked his eyebrow and gave that letter a thorough survey once more, ‘Interesting.’ He commented, ‘And plain.’

‘And that morning I noticed a guy outside the house – though I wasn’t quite sure – a guy in black, I thought he was there to spy on me.’ Robert paused and took a swig of coffee, ‘Two days later I received the third letter and here it is–’ He showed Manuel a note with only one word written on it:

_Wait._

He then turned it over and at the corner of the note were two scribbled letters.

‘N/E.’ murmured Manuel, ‘Do you have any idea what this means?’

Robert shook his head.

‘Alright, what else?’ Manuel kept pumping him for more details.

‘I went back to my parents’ house last weekend, staying in the countryside these days cause I felt unsafe alone in the downtown. Three days ago, that was on Apr. 22th, the postman brought me a box, inside which laid a pistol. The postman said a stranger entrust him to deliver it personally to me. He depicted the stranger as a tall, heavily-built man in black suits, similar to whom I’ve seen that day outside my apartment. So I emailed you immediately because I thought that not a day should be lost in figuring this out. Prank or not, I feel it a necessity to unravel this mystery.’

‘That box, does it bear a signature?’

Robert thought for a second, ‘I think it does. I remembered there was a strange pattern printed on the wrapping paper. Looks like an ‘L’, written in lower-case.’ He mumbled, making invisible strokes in the air with his fingers. ‘I bring it here. Look.’ He took a heavily creased wrapping paper out from his pocket and unfolded it. Fringes of strokes were scattered on the same side of the wrapping paper. Manuel knew he had to put them back. It was like playing a jigsaw. It had to be pieced together following certain rules, otherwise it was of no sense. However, the countless, cobweb-like creases which strewed all over the paper made it improbable for him to find a pattern and thus correctly piecing them together.

‘Okay, anything else you want to share with me?’ asked Manuel crisply, cautiously placing the exhibit on the table in gentle moves lest he might give it another crease. ‘Anything unusual? Has anyone ever beefed against you before?’ He added.

Robert shook his head, ‘I don’t think so. But speaking of something unusual–’

He was suddenly cut off by a loud yawn, ‘Manuel–’ A coquettish drawl caught their attention, ‘you could have been tenderer last night.’

‘What’s that!’ Robert shrieked hysterically, almost jumping out of his seat when he saw a dramatically-costumed Thomas shuffling to the sitting room. He wore a ridiculous broad straw hat decorated with clumps of flamboyant plumes, a silk sheet with scarlet stains that looked pretty much like flecks of blood loosely wrapped around his body, looking as if he was cosplaying an ancient Greek god. Manuel didn’t like the idea of his partner went commando while making the acquaintance of a client. He sighed, shooting him a highly disapproving look.

‘I’m Thomas.’ He crowed while trotting to Robert briskly, taking off the hat and holding out his hand courteously, ‘And you are?’

‘I am, um, Robert.’ Robert forced out an awkward smile.

‘This is Mr. Lewandowski, our client.’ prompted Manuel, emphasizing the word _client_.

‘Oh, so you are Lewy!’ exclaimed Thomas cheerfully. ‘You are way more handsome than I thought.’

‘That’s, um, very kind of you. Really, I’m touched.’ Robert stammered, slightly tilting his head to Manuel as a sign of inquiry. Unfortunately ‘that’s my John Watson’ was all Manuel could come up with in that split second. Robert studied them up and down narrowly with his big brooding eyes before gingerly making a conclusion, ‘So you are a couple.’

‘No, we are not.’ Manuel denied immediately in a croak with a flush of bashfulness. Out of the corner of his eye Manuel noticed that Thomas cast a disgruntled look at him whilst pouting his lips crossly in a childish manner. He then stomped over curtly to the window, standing still with his arms folded and gazing out at the swarms of people on the street, not sparing a look at him. Inwardly Manuel was fiercely debating over whether or not he ought to comfort him, but he dropped this idea after realizing that his client was now peering at them incredulously with a puzzled look. So Manuel made a prompt response by opening his mouth again to alter the conversation back to the original channel, ‘Alright, back to where we left, is there another anomaly that caught your eyes in the past weeks?’

Robert rubbed his nape, ‘I’m not quite certain about it,’ he mumbled, ‘but I have an inkling that it might have something to do with my job. It happened two days ago at midnight. I was still wide awake at that time and happened to hear someone making a call in the garden, right beneath the window of my room. I heard him talking about something like ‘technician’ and ‘still needs him’. He was whispering so I could only grasp some snatches of their conversation. I wasn’t sure if it was the guy spying on me but I had a strong hunch that it might be him.’

Manuel tapped his temple thoughtfully, peering at Robert and furrowed his eyebrows as a look of graveness registered on his face, ‘One last question, Mr. Lewandowski,’ he blurted, ‘are you followed?’

Robert’s eyes widened with bemusement, ‘What are you hinting at?’

‘Are you stalked on the way here?’

‘I… I don’t know. I didn’t look back…’ Robert stammered, he was soon cut off by Thomas, who was cocooned in a broodingly gloomy silence before but was now darting his glances out of the window, narrowly scrutinizing the street with his eagle eyes sweeping across every corner, not hesitating to draw a conclusion, ‘Yeah, you are being followed.’ said him with affirmation, ‘Definitely. There’s a guy sitting outside the cafe across the street pretending to enjoy his coffee whereas in fact, spying on us. The one in black with his trousers smeared with mud. Look.’ He pointed out to Manuel as the latter joined him now by the window.

‘He has a gun hidden in the pocket.’ Manuel added, noticing the guy kept his right hand hidden in the pocket and became extremely tense and rigid every time there were other people passed by.

‘Then what should I do? Just walk out blatantly?’ Robert’s voice brimmed with anxiety.

‘I don’t think he actually has the intention of killing you, at least not now, so there’s no need to panic.’ Thomas muttered, still observing that guy. ‘The problem is, I’m not sure who it is that he intends to go after. He knows you come all the way here for an important appointment. He had the foresight to keep his powder dry, otherwise he wouldn’t take that gun with him. But he didn’t know it was us that you planned to meet up with. So who is it that now interests him most, you or us?’

‘He needs to brief his superiors about the meeting,’ Manuel averred, ‘everything, including us, which means, he needs to extract more information. And luckily we’ve not yet stood out and not many people have heard our names before. So I assume his first priority right now is to pry into our particulars.’ He paced away from the window and darted a quick glance at the clock, which showed the lunchtime was approaching. ‘Okay, here is what we’ll do–’ said Manuel decisively, ‘Mr. Lewandowski, you stay here, do not leave until we come for you. And Thomas–’ His tone became softer and meeker, full of placatory, ‘we’ll go out for a walk.’

The clamour outside swelled up at this moment and the street was swarmed in an uproar. The piercing hoots, the hoarsely shrill crows and hissing whispers all mingled into the midday commotion, at the busiest hour. Manuel and Thomas pushed their way through dense crowds, crossing the street and heading forward in brisk trots, passing the cafe where there could see a mass of customers eagerly chattering and laughing. Among them was the guy in black, who were now seemingly absentmindedly fiddling with the mug handle and seemed to take no heed of anyone moved to and fro, with his right hand still hidden deeply in the pocket. Out of the corner of the eye Manuel perceived a sudden alteration in his attitude when they passed by.

‘He’s coming.’ Manuel murmured, ‘Keep walking. And do not look back.’

‘I’m not a three-year-old.’

Manuel gave in, ‘Alright, just act normal.’ Unfortunately, being obedient and acting as what he was told was never among Thomas’ many a reflection, otherwise he wouldn’t have been that one and only Thomas Müller. ‘What in the world are you doing?’ squealed Manuel in undertones when Thomas suddenly clung to him, having his arm on Manuel’s shoulder whilst rubbing his face against the fabrics of his jumper in an intimate way, which sent chills down to his spine. 

‘He wants information,’ answered Thomas with a detached face, ‘so I give him some.’

‘By showing him I have a soft spot?’

‘Soft spot, really?’ Thomas snorted, breaking away from him as a smile of obscurity curved his lips. ‘You do have a way with words.’

Manuel was rendered speechless. For the better part of the walk they remained eerily silent, deaf to the commotion on the street which Manuel found it so uncharacteristic of them.

‘So, um, are you still mad at me for what I said back there?’ Manuel blurted out after they came down to the high street, having a feeling that it might be the right moment to pick up a topic as they were now down to a pool of cheerful chatters and frantic yelps where everyone was full of beans and even those in a foul mood could be easily cheered up.

However, maybe Thomas should be ruled out. He could be exceptionally stubborn and feisty when rage got the better of him. ‘Why should I sulk at a man of honesty?’ He fought back in a sarcastic tone with his cheeks bulged and his lips clenched to a thin line, ‘Good thing you are honest. I truly respect that.’

Manuel heaved a heavy sigh, he presumed it might be better to steer their conversation in another direction and asked, ‘Is that guy still following us? Does he have company?’

‘Yes to the first but no to the second.’ returned Thomas quickly when he snatched a glance at the driving mirror of a car pulled up along the pavement. ‘Okay, be honest, Mr. Holmes, what’s your next plan? We can’t be roaming around here all day, right?’

‘Right now I’m looking for a nice restaurant. I think that one would do.’ He pointed at an Italian restaurant which was jammed with people.

‘Okay, what then?’

‘Then we split up.’ said Manuel, dragging Thomas over there in quick paces. They found two seats in the corner from where they could observe the street in a good view through windows. ‘I’m starved.’ Manuel ejaculated heartily the instant the attendant served them meals and devoured a mouthful stew. It was after mouthfuls that he came to realize that the guy sitting across him was uncharacteristically quiet, remaining still and leaving the plate untouched, doing nothing save that staring at him with watchful eyes. ‘What?’ Manuel put down the spoon and returned a nervous chuckle to him.

‘We split up and what then? Who’s the one to draw his fire?’ Thomas pumped.

Manuel bit his lips reflectively, ‘I lead him away, and you go back and escort Mr. Lewandowski to the train station.’

‘Working as a diversion, huh?’ Thomas croaked, ‘But we both know I’m better at it.’

‘No.’ Manuel rejected immediately with infinite resolution, ‘I won’t allow it.’

‘You don’t believe I can handle this alone?’

‘No, I have absolute trust in you. But that guy has a gun–’

‘Which means you need a guy who’s ready to pull the trigger at any time.’ Thomas chimed in, refusing to give him chance to argue, ‘Then that’s it. I’ll go, end of story.’ He blew a whistle as if it had been a trumpet of triumph, and then pulled his plate to himself, starting gobbling his share of food. Manuel took a quick survey at the street and turned his gaze back at Thomas, a shadow of melancholy mixed with anxiety creeping onto his forehead as he was brooding over things, which rendered his face twisted out of deep concern.

‘Listen, He may have other company. So do not let down your guard.’ whispered Manuel.

Thomas let out an ambiguous hum as a response whilst he was so occupied chomping on his food in a not very courteous way.

‘Also, do not take those alleys. Run to the crowds if you have an inkling that he’s going to strike.’

‘Yes daddy.’ Thomas grumbled in a muffled voice, rolling his eyes, ‘Anything else?’

‘I’m still thinking.’

Thomas gave him a grimace of disapproval. He gulped down the remaining food in quick moves, glimpsing at the street in a hasty glance before fishing out an old pocket watch. It was given by Manuel and from that day to this it never left his side for one second. ‘Now it’s a quarter past one. I’ll be back in four… maybe five hours? Is that okay, daddy?’ He grunted, pulling a face at Manuel when he noticed the worried look on the other man’s face. Manuel exhaled a sigh of resignation.

‘Alright. Call me if you are in trouble.’ After no longer than a second he opened his mouth again as a thought flashed through his mind, ‘One last question, what’s that ‘I could have been tenderer last night’ complaint all about? I was already as gentle as I could.’

‘You slapped me square on the face last night when you were asleep, knucklehead.’

‘Oh, that. I really have no idea.’ Manuel couldn’t stifle a fit of giggles, ‘A heartfelt apology to you.’

‘Save it after I come back.’

‘Okay.’ said Manuel affably, he was now back to his reserved self. ‘Be careful, and–’ He paused, or to be narrated in a more proper way, stuck. He could see sparks of expectation in Thomas’ eyes, but at last he decided not to inflame them and consequently swallowed the words back, partly because he had a hunch that Thomas in all likelihood was able to read his unspoken anxiety and knew what he was about to but unable to say. They always had that tacit understanding built on years of profound relationship, making it easy for them to intuit the thoughts of each other, which in most cases saved them a lot of trouble but under certain circumstances was the root of most nuisances in their daily lives. While still deliberating with words, slowly and bit by bit, Manuel saw those sparks fading into nothingness.

‘Be back at a quarter past six.’ said Thomas steely in a gruff tone and stamped away in resolute paces. _He looked much maturer when he was alone,_ thought Manuel. Gazing at his slowly receding silhouette, Manuel felt he looked like a lone ranger roaming round the vast desert, having a pistol hidden under his cape and ready to shoot at any time. Triggered by a paroxysm of shame, he gazed down at his hands, his broad, leathery palms with ten long mighty fingers, each as strong and powerful as a python and it was a breeze to crumble a nut when they worked together. But now he felt their weakness. They trembled at the thought of pulling the trigger in a gallant duel.

_I’m a detective. I rely on my brain, not my physique. Why bother appealing to violence if I can tackle the problem with wit and wisdom?_

While still sitting motionless like a statue, Manuel took in a deep breath to bring himself out from the mental world and back to reality, reminding himself it was time to meet up with Mr. Lewandowski. The poor plagued guy sprang to his feet the instant he heard the door creaking open and stumbling to Manuel with an urgent look of inquiry.

‘The guy has left?’

Manuel nodded with conviction, ‘But only for now, so we better hurry. I have some instructions for you, I’ll detail them on the way there.’

By the time he came back it was three o’clock precisely. He studied the letters and the wrapping paper which were given by Robert for the greater part of the afternoon, and noted that on the back of the wrapping paper there were marked with two printed letters – S.W. – both written in capitals, which he figured might be the abbreviation of someone’s name. He brought a box and tried to piece those doodles together by wrapping it in all possible ways, but unfortunately nothing came off. Those were still meaningless, scattered scribbles like graffiti painted in haste. Manuel sighed, assuming he might as well give it a break temporarily so that he could sort out his twisted thoughts and making himself a cup of coffee instead. Leaning against the whitewashed wall and gazing out of the window in an attempt to snatch moments of relaxation, out of suddenness Manuel realized that it was already six o’clock when he heard the chimes in the distance. In the following fifteen minutes he would dart a glance at the clock every five seconds as if his eyes had been glued on them. When there was only one minute to their arranged time and Thomas was still nowhere to see, Manuel was attacked by twinges of panic, having an ominous inkling that something horrible might have happened and started blaming himself for agreeing on Thomas’ reckless plan without deeply thinking it over.

Fifty seconds, forty seconds, thirty seconds left, still no trace of him. And when the second hand hit nine, he heard someone ascending the stairs, followed by the clinking sounds of fumbling in the pocket for the key and then it was the reassuring sound when the door finally creaked open. Thomas appeared on the threshold at a quarter past six sharp with a carton full of various hardware.

‘I overestimate my strength.’ wheezed Thomas, hurling the carton down with a disgruntled moan whilst panting for breath, ‘I carried it for an hour and a quarter. I have a hunch that I might dislocate my arms.’

‘Everything goes smooth?’ asked Manuel, pouring him a cup of coffee and handing it to him.

‘Just as I perceived. He followed me to the Commerzbank and then off he went. I got it right. He wouldn’t stay too long out there cause he had to catch the last train to the west. He left at half past five.’

‘And the carton?’ inquired Manuel.

‘That–’ Thomas made a face whilst kneading his aching arms, ‘–is a diversion. Hope it might give him an impression that we intended to build a home-made rocket to take down him and his confederates and therefore whoever behind this might deem us brainless and underestimate us, thus buying us an advantage to strike them down.’

‘Impressive…’ muttered Manuel slowly, repressing the impulse to point out that it was in fact only an armchair hypothesis and even more impractical than the half-baked ideas of alchemists.

Nonetheless, it seemed that Thomas didn’t care at all. He flopped down on the sofa with the coffee mug in his cupped hands, sipping a mouthful while fully immersed in the warm fragrance wafting around him. Not after seconds did he become cognizant that Manuel was eagerly staring at him with those luminous blue eyes. A meaningful, enigmatic smile curved his lips.

‘Have I got a splotch on the face?’ asked Thomas, knitting his brows in confusion.

Manuel chuckled, shaking his head, ‘No, just glad to see you back, and safe.’

Thomas pulled the nearest newspaper to himself and used it to cover his face as a dull crimson stealthily creeping onto his cheeks. ‘Muttonhead.’ He slurred. Manuel joined him on the sofa and Thomas spontaneously snuggled up to him with his head resting on Manuel’s broad heaving chest. ‘So how did things go with Lewy?’

‘It’s Mr. Lewandowski,’ Manuel plugged away at correcting his habits of misnaming people, ‘and I told him to lodge with the family living across his house for the temporary moment. In that case the chances are he’ll be able to observe the guy following him better and more thorough.’

‘And how’s your study in those letters? And the wrapping paper?’

‘Never mind. It met a dead end.’ Manuel admitted frankly with a nonchalant sigh.

When the night fell it started drizzling and soon evolved into a raging torrent with thunders rumbling outrageously, a typical spring night in late April. Through thick trickles streaming down on the glass, Manuel caught a glimpse of flashing lightning in the distance, which looked like grim withered branches. The heavy raining was of no service in teasing out his twirling twisted thoughts, but it did let his hair down and soothed his anxiety. Though what really cheered him up to no end was having Thomas’ company. He claimed half the room on Manuel’s bed on an excuse of almost dislocating his arms. He was studying the letters and the wrapping paper brought by Robert with undivided attention, endeavouring to unravel the riddles.

‘Apr.13th, Apr.15th, Apr.17th,’ murmured Thomas thoughtfully after a moment of contemplation, ‘and the box was delivered on Apr. 22nd. Strange, should it follow the previous pattern, the box was to be delivered on Apr.19th, but now there was an interval of five days.’

‘There might be a letter that failed to reach him because of the sudden alteration in locations.’

‘Exactly.’ Thomas echoed.

‘And I presume the letter delivered on Apr. 13th was not in fact, the first.’ croaked Manuel, ‘Let’s see if we can find the missing letters.’

Thomas hummed in agreement, ‘And those signatures? Do you have any thought yet?’

‘Not yet.’ Manuel mumbled. He cast a quick glance out the window. So dark was it that he could easily make out a faint shimmer in the pitch-black night. ‘Okay, don’t fuss over this.’ murmured Manuel, switching off the light, ‘Time to sleep.’

‘I can’t–’ drawled Thomas with a stubborn resolution, fiddling with the letters, ‘I have an intuition that the strokes and patterns are of no use to us unless they are put together in a correct way, but on what rules?’

‘I guess it’ll only be cleared up until we find the missing letters, so leave the nuisances till morning. Right now it’s time to sleep.’

Thomas gave those letters one last look before laying it aside, ‘Makes sense.’ He agreed, ‘But I don’t want to sleep now–’ He whispered under his hot heavy breath, gently caressing Manuel’s plump cheeks with his slender fingers as a frenzy of excitement welled up within him and a thriving keenness for kissing and fondling feverishly sparkled in his eyes.

Manuel blinked knowingly, ‘You want it?’ asked him in undertones, pulling himself up and gazing down at Thomas tentatively with those big blue eyes with spoiling love melted in them.

A firm but soft ‘yes’ slipped out of his tongue. He held Manuel’s chubby face tenderly in his warm cupped hands and slowly led it down in a seductive way whilst letting Manuel strip off his clothes along with his own and indulgently allowing his fingertips to dance and scrawl on his bare skin in an intimate itchy manner. Manuel’s fingers snaked from his abdomen down to the hip while Thomas’s arms stealthily wriggled on his back and were loosely wrapped around his neck like a python sneakily stole to its prey, pulling Manuel down to himself, following the tender and gooey brush of their lips. Manuel’s hands slid down to Thomas’ thighs and gently lifted them. So tempted and inflamed was he that he hastened to thrust without further ado, pumping out a gasp out of tingle, ensuing a slight groan from the younger man as he arched his back up off the bed and dug his nails into Manuel’s soft skin.

Admittedly, it was most odd that your roommate was, at the same time, your sex partner. But Manuel would rather not to rack his brain to work out how it ended up like this since their relationship was as perplexed as a mystery and a tangled mess even in their views. Five years without seeing or hearing from the guy whom you cared most and then all of a sudden he was back and became your roommate. If what he had experienced that night didn’t rate a miracle then Manuel wondered what it was that was qualified to etch a place in that milestone.

He didn’t know why Thomas left at that time, after they graduated from high school he just vanished from his life, drifting to somewhere else like a plume of smoke and since then disappeared and invisible from everyone they knew. Manuel tried to find him but the quest was to no avail. He contacted everyone whom he presumed might hold a clue and even asked a friend in police department for help but in the end he was banging his head against a brick wall. Just as he was close to despair and resigning himself to his failure, Thomas reappeared. Manuel didn’t pump him for an answer why he chose to hide himself from every other guy and mostly, him. He was afraid that he might once again leave without notifying anyone. Manuel was willing to accept anything even at the sacrifice of a dig at the truth as long as he could keep what he had got back – a peaceful and blissful life with whom he loved.

‘You know what I’m thinking?’ Thomas blurted in a dreamy voice a moment later, ‘I’m thinking that luckily it was me who you met back then.’

‘You are right. Thanks my lucky stars to have you by my side. I must save the world in another life to be able to live a lucky life in this universe.’ Manuel echoed, snogging intently while still furiously avid for more, like a boozer greedily feasted on vintage port.

‘I’m not talking about this.’ He whispered, gazing at an utterly confused Manuel as he now withdrew from the fervent kiss and propped himself up a little bit against the elbows, ‘You once said I’m lucky to bump into a guy like you who were tolerant of my every piece of shit. Well I say you are fortunate to meet a guy like me who is indulgent of your every irresolute swing, any way to cut it.’

Manuel knew exactly what he referred to. He stared down at those gleaming eyes radiating a flare of expectancy, which revived the fragments of the past, that moist, sweltering summer night, for instance, and the day when they parted after high school graduation. There were so many feelings that ought to be confided a long time ago and also, there were a handful of opportunities which were handed to him on a silver platter but he failed to seize even one.

Hesitant and while attempted to keep himself cool and collected, Manuel licked his lips thoughtfully before carefully venturing, ‘Are you disappointed at me?’

Thomas mutely gave him a reply in a mealymouthed way by pulling him down and kissed him hard on his soft lips whilst still in tight clinch with his hands affectionately fondling Manuel’s nape.

‘I’ll give you an answer when this case is solved and the mysteries are all unravelled.’ Manuel breathed the words into his ears.

‘Promised?’

Manuel broke into a chuckle, ‘Promised.’ He then allowed himself to sink into another fervent and sloppy kiss.

At the bustles down on the street Manuel was awakened when it was only break of dawn and quickly sprung out of bed in gentle moves before stealing a kiss from Thomas. After a quarter or so he left the rooms and set out on the stroll to Robert’s apartment in the downtown, all tidy and dressed up. It took approximately an hour’s walk to get there. The pavement was shimmering with puddles and after several strides his heels were all smeared with mud. The torrential rain last night left tracks of mud on the steps of the apartment, messing up the carpet and making Manuel wrinkle his nose in disgust when he saw the unpleasant, horribly scruffy sight.

He turned on his heels to the mailbox hung on the side sentinel over the passers-by moving to and fro. Robert didn’t even bother to lock it. The mailbox was stuffed with letters and old postcards, giving an evident sign that Robert was not that kind of guy who were nostalgic of the old time when all the communications were relied on hand-writing. He rummaging through a thick wodge of old letters and it didn’t take him long to find the one which he was seeking for. Inside it were only a few ambiguous words. But compared to what was written inside, it was what was written outside that interested him most. Printed on the back of the envelope was a mighty stroke, and beside it were a pair of capital letters ‘N/W’, which he had no clue what they meant right now.

The letter was delivered on Apr.10th, according to the date printed on it. Manuel rifled through the stack of letters for another minute yet in a vain attempt to find the one delivered between Apr.17th and Apr.22th. Having admitted that he might bump into a dead end, Manuel left the letters back to where they had been and began another round of minute search on the doorstep. He crouched down in the doorway whilst stretching his neck to the maximum, endeavouring to peep through the crack of the door, which made quite an odd view. His eyes captured a white streak lying on the hard floor inside the room which was within reach. Manuel picked a branch from the hedge and used it to fish it out.

It was evident that this was the said letter which unluckily missed its recipient. Elaborately printed on the envelope were a capital ‘S’ and what looked like a kid’s drawing. Had he not been aware of the particulars of the case he might deem it as a prank as well when he saw that comical plain depiction of a sad face.

Manuel collected the letters and strolled down on the path to get back after ensuring that there was nothing more there that worth a scrutiny. He had barely set his foot on the doorstep of their shared apartment before Thomas got up.

‘I thought you preferred to have a lie-in today.’ said Manuel.

‘Normally I prefer to do that. But now since we have a case, so…’ he shrugged, hopping down on the sofa next to Manuel, craning his neck to get a better view of the letters brought back by Manuel, ‘You find the missing letters?’

‘Yeah, two letters altogether, here–’ he handed them to Thomas, ‘Take a look.’

While Thomas was minutely scrutinizing the letters, Manuel recapitulated his findings at Robert’s apartment in brief narration. ‘You suspect those capital letters hold the clue of how to correctly piece those patterns together?’ Thomas ventured.

‘That’s the only reasonable explanation.’ asserted Manuel, ‘The capital letters are actually a code. Whoever behind this wants Mr. Lewandowski to decipher his identity, meanwhile he has to keep this under the hat from being interfered by those extraneous. So, should someone else find the letter by accident, he would only deem it as a child’s play. But to those who have the code, it has an utterly different meaning.’

Thomas struck an attitude of contemplation and persisted with his glittering pondering eyes, ‘But on what rules can we decode it?’

Manuel pouted, ‘I’m not sure.’ He sank into the soft cushions in exhaustion, ‘I figure I better make a call to Mr. Lewandowski, to see if he finds anything interesting after a day’s scrutiny.’

However Manuel had barely taken out his phone before Robert beat him to it and rang him back. ‘Mr. Neuer?’ he asked, a flicker of anxiety wavering in his tone, ‘There are two other letters, one of which was delivered on Apr. 24th, but my dad thought it a kid’s prank and junked it. He didn’t tell me about it until this morning. And the other is delivered today. I’ll send you the photos.’

Seconds later the photos reached him with a silvery beep. Manuel knitted his eyebrows in reflection at the ambiguous contents in those letters. The letter delivered on Apr. 24th didn’t contain any material information, save a horizontal line. A capital ‘E’ along with a dot was imprinted on the back of the envelope.

‘An ‘E’ with a dot.’ Thomas muttered, taking a few notes on his pad, ‘And the other? What’s written in it?’

‘Nothing but a huge question mark. And printed on the envelope are the capital letters ‘S.E.’ and a small curve.’ returned Manuel and then back to converse with Robert, ‘Mr. Lewandowski, I have another question for you. Can you remember what’s written on the envelope of the letter sent on Apr. 13th?’

There was a hesitant silence at the other end of the phone, ‘There’s a capital ‘M’, if my memory doesn’t fail me.’

‘Is it embellished with a pattern? Like a stroke or a curve?’ persisted Manuel.

‘I can’t recall.’

‘Alright then, we’ll keep you posted if we find something new.’ He turned to Thomas immediately after hanging up the phone, and told him what Robert had said back then in recapitulation. He saw Thomas scribbling the new particulars down on the note and contemplating the scrawls while frowning inquisitively.

‘Eight in total.’ Thomas mumbled, ‘These could be abbreviated names, but these…’ he pointed at the letters ‘N/E’ and ‘M’ in bemusement, ‘What could they possibly mean?’

Manuel sat motionless and deeply immersed in his thoughts while gazing broodingly at those ambiguous scribbles, perplexed and thrown by the ambiguity as a shadow of bewilderment veiled his face. After a moment of contemplation he took the pencil from Thomas’ grasp and more than once he scrawled on the note, marking and drawing lines on the spur of the moment whilst Thomas peered at it with his breath held, endeavouring to figure out the inner patterns and refusing to give up until an idea flashed through his mind.

‘If we cross this one out,’ said Manuel whilst drawing a line through the capital ‘M’, ‘and then take a look at the remaining. Seven in total, but they all centre around four key letters. Does it look familiar?’

Thomas was rooted to the spot with a gasp of astonishment, ‘Directions.’

‘Bingo.’

‘And the ‘M’? It doesn’t fit into the pattern.’

Manuel chewed on his lips for a while before giving his conclusion, ‘It is likely that Mr. Lewandowski made a mistake. In all likelihood it’s supposed to be a ‘W’, but he read it upside down and took it as an ‘M’.’

‘So they are indicating where to place the patterns.’

‘Exactly.’ enthused Manuel, ‘Okay, let’s put them together and see what we can find.’ He leaned forward in a cheerful mood and hastened to patch the scraps of patterns together with a vengeance, while so steeped was he in cracking the riddles that he was totally unnoticed of the anomaly of his partner, who was eccentrically quiet at the moment and shuffling back and forth in unsteady paces with a gloom of anxiety dangerously lurked in his eyes in drastic contrast.

‘You alright?’ Manuel asked. It was not until moments later that he perceived the anomaly in Thomas’ behaviour and cast a bemused look at him.

At his inquiry Thomas stopped pacing around, ‘Me? I’m fine.’ He allowed himself a thin smile, ‘Are you distracted by my shuffling around here? I can go over there if it would make you distracted.’ said him quickly.

‘No, that’s not what I mean–’

But Thomas was unresponsive to what he said, walking directly to the window. Manuel heaved a sigh of concern and stared at his silhouette with his brows knitted in apprehension, his lanky frame outlining a shadow of melancholy on the dim glass. When realizing that he could do nothing with the current situation, Manuel decided that he might as well go back to decipher the riddle and continue piecing the ambiguous strokes and curves together, ‘Interesting…’ said he hesitantly, cocking his eyebrow when the pattern was finally presented as a whole, ‘You know, I think it actually looks like a nose…’ 

‘What?’ Thomas shrieked in a so eerily high-pitched voice that it almost broke. He was in a brown study before. So deeply immersed was he that Manuel suspected that he might be petrified. Therefore Manuel was utterly floored and nearly jumped out of his skin when Thomas was brought to life and yelped in urgent inquiry, ‘What are you saying?’ He pumped further.

Manuel blinked vacantly and slowly stammered, ‘I say it looks like a nose.’

Drowned in suffocating silence, there was nothing but feverish imaginary heartbeats to be heard. Their sights met each other, the blue bewildered one finding the green brooding one. ‘You know something?’ ventured Manuel.

‘I know who’s behind this,’ Thomas croaked slowly in a hollow voice, ‘It’s Joachim Löw.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'GOT' referring to 'Games of thrones' (in case you don't know:D) I haven't seen the last episode myself but my friend watched it and she couldn't stop throwing abuse at the scriptwriter ever since (whenever the news or interviews about them pop out on the internet) so I thought Thomas might cry his heart out when he learned the demise of Daenerys and thus crawling onto Manuel's bed asking for his comfort.
> 
> The deductions might be a bit of hasty but I hope it works anyway and won't be a mess... the other thing is that I've been thinking whether or not I should tag you-know-who in the characters cause technically speaking he serves an important role in the story. For now I decide to leave out his name and maybe after a chapter or two I'll put it in so... but yeah he's the super villain that's for sure.


	2. Chapter 2

‘Joachim Löw?’ Manuel furrowed his brows. This name jogged his memory, although it wasn’t a pleasant one. ‘The head of those gangsters? That one called–’

‘–DF Brotherhood.’ replied Thomas crisply with a grim face.

‘Yeah, that one.’ Manuel nodded. He had dealt with them before. It was one of his very first cases. He was young and inexperienced then and it gave him a concussion and a traumatic experience when dealing with a guy from the Brotherhood even with the assistance of a friend in the police department. He shook his head wearily and tapped his cheeks as if in an attempt to sweep off those unpleasant memories. As they died down a new doubt was raised, ‘But how do you know about the Brotherhood?’ inquired Manuel with a suspicious look.

Thomas licked his lips hesitantly before stuttering a reply, ‘I used to work for him.’ He admitted, darting a glance of shame from under his eyelashes, too abashed to look at Manuel directly in the eye.

Manuel was stunned by surprise, ‘What are you saying?’

At his query Thomas lowered his head, ‘I worked for him in the past.’ He fidgeted with his fingers nervously as he was overcome by twinges of guilt and embarrassment, ‘Remember the night when we met in the bar? I told you I just resigned, bidding farewell to my tyrannical superior… Well, I was referring to him.’

‘You worked for Löw?’ Manuel squealed in disbelief, gaping at him as if it had been the first time that he ever encountered him, ‘You worked for a notorious gang? How could you do that?’

For a minute Thomas ruffled his hair frantically in a tremor of mixed feelings of anxiety and guilt without giving any response. ‘I know it’s stupid.’ He sighed heavily, looking fraught and grave as he was deprived of his usual vigour and joy, presently a haggard and pale face instead. ‘It’s reckless and I know it. It baffles me why I made this decision to join them. In retrospect it’s even inexplicable to me. I don’t know, sometimes I can’t even relate to myself–’

‘Involved in a gang!’ flared Manuel hysterically, throwing his hands in despair, his spikey reproach showering down like a torrent of bullets, ‘What were you thinking? You could get yourself killed!’

‘I don’t know…Everything was a chaos at that time. I… I was a moron, too hyper and impulsive to think it over. I know I made a huge mistake, Manu. I’m sorry.’ He was choked by a convulsive tearful paroxysm, crouching down and huddled in remorse, whimpering silently.

Manuel breathed a sigh of bitterness and squatted on his heels next to Thomas, ‘Look, I don’t mean to throw anger at you,’ said him tenderly while soothingly rubbing his back in gentle moves. ‘I just… I’m worried that they may come after you.’

With a strangled sob Thomas rejoined, ‘You might as well throw anger at me. Feels strange to be comforted under such circumstances.’

‘Well, unfortunately I can’t hold my wrath for long so… sorry to disillusion you.’ He patted Thomas’ back softly and gently wiped his face clean with tissues, ‘Alright, let’s put it aside and focus on the case, shall we?’ murmured Manuel, a cordial, wholehearted smile touching his lips.

‘Yeah, you are right.’ Thomas agreed, hauled himself up to the sofa and pulled that notebook to himself, leafing through the scribbled pages narrowly, ‘Then it all clicks.’ He concluded seconds later, ‘Clearly the Brotherhood is in search for a technician, and Lewy is what they are seeking for. And those are not threatening letters, but invitations.’ 

‘They want Mr. Lewandowski to work for them.’

‘Exactly.’ Thomas snapped his fingers, ‘It began with intriguing him, and then giving him a pistol cause that was the token of being accepted by the Brotherhood. Besides, it was a mighty weapon to protect yourself once you are involved in that kind of stuff. While the last two letters were to ask Lewy’s opinion, though it was more like a formality. Sooner or later he will be taken to their den, whether he likes it or not.’ He paused when he noticed that Manuel took out his phone and started texting promptly without a second of delay, ‘What are you doing?’ asked Thomas curiously.

‘I’m texting a friend in the police department,’ answered Manuel with an urgent apprehension in his voice, ‘Mr. Lewandowski is in danger, he needs to be protected.’

‘Frankly speaking, currently it’s not Lewy that worries me most.’ Thomas bit his lips thoughtfully, ‘You know Löw has an eccentrically strong stubbornness of keeping the size of his gang, which means, under no circumstance will he contract it, nor will he expand it. Always 24 guys, including himself. If he intends to bring in a new member, then someone else is bound to be doomed and disposed of. One for one, you know what I mean? Since they already set out to look for a new technician, then another technician will be condemned to death at some point, dumped into the shark pool. It’s the one who’s to be given up that actually makes me worried.’

There was a brief silence haunting in the room as Manuel was stiffened by shock while Thomas did nothing but stared at him with a solemn, grave look. Though being a detective for nearly two years, scarcely was he actually involved in cases where someone was treading a thin line and in singularly grave peril of losing his life since most of what he had dealt with were minor issues. But now it was no longer a child’s play.

‘That doesn’t look good.’ muttered Manuel slowly.

‘It sure does not.’ echoed Thomas.

‘And the shark pool? What is that?’

‘A huge pool, where a swarm of great white sharks can freely roam around.’ murmured Thomas, with his arms folded in horror. It still gave him goose bumps when thinking of them, those giant, merciless creatures with razor-sharp teeth and cruel eyes. ‘He who’s destined to be disposed of will be dumped into the pool and thus becoming their feed.’

For a split second Manuel almost forgot how to breathe properly. He was overwhelmed by such brutality, and that Thomas could narrate it in such cool, calm and collected tone as well. Manuel was sure that he must go through a lot during the chequered past when bogged in the nest where there spawned evil and crime.

‘So, how did you manage to escape?’ asked Manuel with an air of composure successfully, though he still had an unrestrained impulse to shudder.

‘A friend in the gang helped fake my death.’

‘And what was your business when working for them?’

‘Human resources.’ Thomas replied crisply.

Manuel appeared to be utterly bemused with a blank face, his dazed eyes blinking vacantly at Thomas as his features were seemingly torn between the state of being bewildered and amused.

‘What kind of gang needs a guy in charge of human-resources department?’

‘Well, you see, they can’t even come up with a proper and clever plan for recruitment after I left. They want to win Lewy to their side but the only thing they succeed is to scare him off. Plus the fact that it was I who inspired them to use the tricks of splitting the logo into pieces so as to avoid being discovered and interfered by someone else. Now you see the importance of a reliable and experienced recruitment consultant from Human-resources department?’ challenged Thomas daringly with his chin up to gaze Manuel in the eye.

_Okay, he had a point._

‘Alright, point taken. Still, our first priority right now is to locate their den. You know where they are, right?’

‘Southeast to Munich, at Holzkirchen, near the motorway.’ said Thomas briefly, ‘I can confide the location of their secret headquarters to your friend in police department, but I highly doubt if they are still there. They won’t stay in one place for too long. I suspect it’s long abandoned. Though there may be some traces left, which might work to your advantage.’

Manuel nodded while texting his friend with prompt and nimble moves of his long fingers, ‘And one more question, that guy, the one who followed you yesterday, is there any possibility that he might see your face?’

Thomas lapsed into silence. ‘I’m not sure.’ He breathed out a soft whisper a moment later.

Clearly that promised another nettle to grasp, at least from Manuel’s point of view. He didn’t hesitate to make his decision and presently pronounced it with an air of solemnity which was so rare to see on a man of tenderness with soft features.

‘Okay, from now on you keep your nose out of this case.’ commanded Manuel steely with a detached face, ‘I can deal with it alone.’

‘No!’ Thomas protested, ‘This is bullshit! I can be of great help tackling this case.’

‘You staying here is of greatest help to me.’

‘But you need me!’

‘You stay in, end of story.’

For an instant it seemed that Thomas was about to burst into roars and tears, but he managed to hold his temper and scurried back to his room in stomping paces, not in the mood for further arguing. The fierce bickering left Manuel rooted and apprehensive in bitterness, more than a while or so he standing there like a withered elm with his broad back curved, downbeat like a deflated balloon. He started doubting if it was the right thing to do, being so harsh to Thomas like an austere dad who unreasonably grounded his adult kid for breaking a curfew.

The vibration of phone intruded on his thoughts. It was his friend in the police department, Benedikt, who made this untimely call and asked him to fix up an appointment so as to further discuss the details of the case. At the request of Benedikt he booked a table at a cafe near his apartment and they would meet there in an hour. Manuel figured he better informed Thomas about his unplanned appointment, regardless of their previous squabbles. He saw Thomas lying deathly still on the bed, quietly gazing at the ceiling with his fingers interlaced on the abdomen as if in an attitude of drowsy meditation.

At the sound of Manuel’s steps he was roused and immediately turned his back to him. More than once he did this kind of things, therefore Manuel was so accustomed to it and had already learned not to take it to heart.

‘Um, I have an appointment at 8:30,’ said Manuel discreetly, ‘with Benedikt, my friend in the police department. He wants to further discuss some particulars about this case.’

‘I don’t care. This is not my case.’ Thomas snorted indifferently.

Manuel gave vent to a sigh, ‘I’ll be back in an hour. Stay at home, and beware of anything odd. Notify me if anything happens.’ 

The time after sundown was of pure tranquillity with only people wandering on the pavement in twos and threes, although what was inside the cafe was an utterly different scene. The cafe was swarmed with diners. Among the diners laughing and shooting the breeze Manuel was peculiarly serene, seemingly vacant and lifeless like a statue.

Benedikt appeared by the table at 8:30 sharp. When seeing his old acquaintance Manuel broke into an earnest smile.

‘Just like the old times,’ Benedikt couldn’t stifle a bitter chuckle, flopping down on the seat across Manuel while slightly shaking his head. ‘How come you always get involved with this Brotherhood?’

‘I have been asking myself the very same question in the past two hours.’ Manuel sighed.

It took approximately twenty minutes for Manuel to cover every detail of the case. He was parched when the narration was finally over. Benedikt mulled it over for a moment, the wrinkles on his forehead as deep as trench.

‘This could be our chance to lure them out.’

‘Granted.’ Manuel echoed. Presently, he scribbled down an address and handed it to Benedikt, ‘And this is an old address of their den. You can send your people to check, but better not pin all your hopes on it. Chances are they already moved out a long time ago.’

In the following time they exchanged their ideas regarding the best and most efficient way to smoothly carry out the plans against Brotherhood. Once or twice Manuel’s mind strayed, wandering to some specific one and it was all too obvious for Benedikt to notice his being absent-minded.

‘Had a quarrel with someone?’ inquired Benedikt when Manuel mispronounced the words the fourth time.

‘How do you know that?’

‘You are wearing it on your sleeve.’

A touch of dull crimson suffused Manuel’s cheeks, ‘Oh, I don’t expect it to be that obvious.’ He coughed in embarrassment, ‘You are right, I had a quarrel with a friend just then.’

‘A friend, really?’ rejoined Benedikt with glitters sparkling in his eyes, a sly grin touching his elegant lips, ‘Although never ever having been involved in a romantic relationship myself, I’m 100% sure that the guy you are talking about is no mere a friend.’

Manuel threw his arms in resignation, ‘Fine, I admit it, more than a friend. It’s Thomas, does the name ring a bell? I’ve talked about him before, remember?’

‘The guy for whom you carry a torch for years?’ mumbled Benedikt hesitantly.

‘Um, not exactly. I’m certain that he actually loves me back. Though we, I, to be more precise, have never bared my soul to him before.’

‘Okay… so what are you waiting for? Seven years are enough for a baby to grow mature.’

Manuel tapped his chubby cheeks as a troubled expression cast a veil of shadow on his face, which was blended with the dull blush, rendering him look like a haunted broke boozer. ‘I couldn’t bring myself to confess my feelings.’ He breathed a sigh, ‘You know, sometimes I figure, since we both know the feelings and thoughts of each other, there’s no need to put the thoughts into words, right? After all it serves nothing but formality.’

‘Trust me, he needs a declaration.’

Manuel chewed over his lips for a thoughtful contemplation before venturing, ‘But what kind of declaration?’

‘How should I know? You are the guy who’s going out with him, not me.’ Benedikt shrugged, ‘But speaking for myself, I prefer someone frank and direct, brief with his words and cut to the chase without monologues.’

‘Occupational hazard for an inspector.’ chuckled Manuel in jest.

They passed a few remarks about some current particulars of their personal lives before bidding farewell when at that time, most diners already left. Brimming with a mood of buoyancy and blessed with a fragrant light breeze Manuel was back at their shared apartment at around half past nine. Truth to be told, he wasn’t surprised at all when he found himself faced with a tightly closed door. Thomas’ muffled voice drifted out from behind the confined four walls of his bedroom the moment Manuel stepped in the apartment.

‘You said you’ll be back in an hour,’ Thomas croaked quickly, ‘You left the house at 8:20, and now it’s 9:23. You are three minutes overstep.’

Manuel sighed. He had long been aware that Thomas had an exacting standard with time, he knew it ever since they were in high school. And he was even harsher with punctuality after Manuel gave him that pocket watch as a birthday gift. Privately Manuel deemed it a perfect example of the chickens coming home to roost – a guy who always overslept should give a pocket watch to someone as a present.

‘Look, we were in a heated discussion and lost track of time.’ Manuel explained, ‘You know the case is a little bit of twisted…’

‘Not my case, not my business.’ hummed Thomas with a sarcastic tone.

Manuel knew too well not to niggle with him when he was in a foul mood to pick a quarrel and instead, he asked in a pleading tone, ‘Thomas, can you come out of the room and talk with me so that we can get to the bottom of whatever infuriates you and get it over with?’

‘There’s no need for that. I think you know exactly what it is that infuriates me.’ Thomas rejected steely with a sharp rebuff.

Having been snubbed with a flea in his ear, Manuel turned away and shuffled back to his own bedroom, shoulders hunched in an attitude of huddling himself. Bathed in the silver shimmers of the streetlights while vacantly staring at the shadow cast from above on the sheets, shrouded in dull blankness, strangely Manuel felt himself gripped by a surge of loneliness, although there was another guy living on the other side, who was divided from him by a mere thin wall.

Manuel lay back to bed in between moans and sorrowful hums, sinking into the soft pillow whilst listening to his heart fiercely hammering against the chest in a symphony of remorse. Granted, he was a bit too harsh on Thomas, but with a justification, and a good one. Hence he won’t give in on this. There were certain things that he refused to yield, including his pledge to keep Thomas safe ever since they plunged into the career of fighting against criminals.

Nonetheless, he could choose a cleverer way of uttering his demand, and in retrospect he shouldn’t do it in a patronizing manner. After a thorough contemplation Manuel decided that tomorrow morning he would come to Thomas directly to sort out their divergence.

With the twisted knot unravelled, the symphony faded away into soft, regular breathing. Whereas meanwhile on the other side of the wall, with fingers quickly tapping keyboard performing a silvery rhythmic drum roll, the shadow outlined a silhouette busy with work. Thomas sat on the bed, fully concentrated with his back hunched into a smooth and elegant curve. He looked like a percussionist, performing with his keyboard.

For the past hours he had kept endeavouring to make contact with his old pal, Mats, who was still with the Brotherhood. Mats was a computer adept, while Thomas, in huge contrast, was not strong on programming, nor did he know anything about hacking back when he still worked for Löw. They were out of his element, but luckily Mats taught him well and they were proved to be of great use in the current situation.

Moments later a shrill beep reached him along with a note, which indicated that all the hard work in the past hours paid off. Thomas breathed a sigh of relief and clicked the note, which contained only two words:

– _Save me._

Thomas replied hurriedly: Where are you?

– _I don’t know. They have held me captive ever since they move into a new headquarters._

–Is there any window in the cell? If it does, tell me everything you can see. And is there any sound you can hear?

– _I can hear rumble of trucks, from everywhere, but all I see are vast chunks of farmland._

Thomas mulled it over narrowly with his eyebrows deeply furrowed. Seconds later another note reached him.

_–I feel bad, Mull. Everyday I see sunrise, scarcely will I be cheered up, but haunted by an ominous feeling that I’ll soon meet my sundown instead. He wants me zapped, I’m sure of it._

Seemed that there was no time to lose.

–We’ll find you.

This remark brought an abrupt halt to their conversation, causing an awful feeling to swirl inside Thomas’ head. He had an inkling that Löw was going to strike within no more than a few days.

He hastened to click open a map of Munich and started scrutinizing it in detail while pondering on every word which Mats had just told him. As he went along an idea flickered in his mind and became as clear as crystal. Overwhelmed by his finding, for an instant he planned to wake Manuel and told him about it, but he stepped back at last second and determined to keep it to himself.

_I’ll prove to him I can ascertain the truth and handle it myself._

Driven by dire imperatives and while in an urgent haste, he sneaked out of the house under cover of darkness and ventured into the dreary night.

Manuel woke early the next day, which, he figured, was probably because of the huge burden weighing down on his mind. Having washed up, he came directly to Thomas’s room and gingerly knocked on the door, waiting for his answer with patience.

To his utter astonishment, there was not even a slightest peep on the other side of the door. Deep in bemusement, he knocked again harder and this time still no answer came to him. Consequently, Manuel opened the door without permitting, and he knew instantly why there was only deathly still on the other side.

He ran out, sneakily.

_That little prick,_ snarled Manuel in his mind, _I’m going to spank you when you come back, I swear._

Being a bundle of nerves, he paced back and forth in an attempt to collect himself, which, on the contrary, proved to be no avail. At last Manuel decided that he might as well use alcohol to calm himself down. He changed into a clean outfit and intended to go out for a drink, but stopped short when all of a sudden, his plan was thrown into disarray by an unexpected letter appearing mysteriously on the doorstep.

The letter was sent to Thomas. There was only one word written on it:

_Tonight._

There were a bundle of packed fragments in the envelope, each fragment imprinted with ambiguous patterns. It appeared to be some self-made jigsaw puzzle. Being an experienced riddle-cracker, Manuel didn’t need to play their little games to know who was behind this.

‘DF Brotherhood.’ murmured Manuel to himself. He closed the door and instinctively locked it up before making a call to Thomas without a moment of delay. A second later he heard a clear ringing sound mixed with rumbles caused by vibrations coming from Thomas’ bedroom. It almost drove him up the wall to the utmost.

_You wretched scallywag, I’m going to make you write Mr. Lewandowski’s name for 1,000 times when this is over! You’ll see!_

Sinking in the sofa whilst being a poor guy seized by hysteria, for a long time Manuel did nothing but sat there rooted like a cold corpse, eyes dazed and the lips were deprived of colour due to hard bites. Not after the sun rose did he gained a little bit of strength that made it enough for him to brace himself up and liberated him from the nerve-racking moment. Manuel took one last look at the letter and carefully put it in his pocket, heading for the police station after making sure that he was not followed.

Benedikt didn’t expect to see Manuel again so soon when his friend bobbed up in his office in the early morning, looking weary and depressed.

‘What happened?’ inquired Benedikt, ‘Please don’t tell me you are pathetically refused by your lovely sweetheart. Mind that I’m not your consultant for your romantic relationships.’ He teased, a lopsided grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

Manuel waved his hand in exhaustion while dropping in a seat across Benedikt in a fluid motion, ‘It has nothing to do with that. I found this letter on the doorstep this morning.’ He tossed the letter on the table, ‘It’s from the Brotherhood, and it’s for Thomas.’

‘Tonight they are going to strike?’ Benedikt quirked an eyebrow after narrowly scanning the letter.

Manuel hummed an incoherent affirmative.

‘Well, if we can catch at least one of them, it would give us a huge advantage.’ crowed Benedikt under his breath, though his enthusiasm dropped when he caught a glimpse of the gloomy look on Manuel’s face. ‘Hey, don’t worry. I’ll send officers to protect him. He’ll be alright.’

Manuel heaved a sigh of resignation, ‘As long as you can find him.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He ran out this morning.’ Manuel shook his head, ‘I told him to stay at home, but he refused to listen. He sneaked out when I was off guard. The room’s empty and the phone’s left there untouched. Now there are a bunch of gangsters looking for him, yet he was out there, nowhere to be seen.’

‘Oh… that’s rather troublesome.’ Benedikt agreed. Manuel echoed with a long heavy sigh. ‘But the odds are that he just went out for a walk, I daresay. So you better go back and it could well be that you’ll soon hear his footsteps ascending the stairs.’

Benedikt was right. Barely had he reached home and just closed the door behind him before he heard a fit of brisk joyous footsteps drumming on the old, almost worn-out wooden stairs, followed by a metallic click when the key was inserted and turned. As the door creaked open with a squeak Thomas appeared in the doorway, looking fresh and vigorous and his face aglow with excitement. He tripped to Manuel while brandishing a big crumpled map.

‘I know where they could possibly hide!’ exclaimed Thomas, his bright eyes even brighter with those glistening sparkles, ‘I marked seven possible locations–’

He stopped short when he suddenly noted the terrifically solemn look on Manuel’s face. The radiant blush faded away and the glitters in his eyes died quickly whilst his arms were still aloft, however presently, even the upraising arms were slowly put down and dangled weakly on his sides like two ramshackle swings. He could read anger on his face, and disappointment as well, mingled with a touch of relief in an eccentric harmony which Thomas found it not so comfortable.

‘I ran out, against your will, obviously.’ Thomas admitted frankly, determined to strike first, ‘Hence I’ll prick up my ears for any pleasant and silvery reproach you are about to make in the following minutes, starting now.’ said Thomas deliberately in a rather sarcastic tone and produced his pocket watch for timekeeping.

‘You can stop timing because I’m in no mood for giving a lecture. I’ve had enough of your irresponsible, headstrong behaviours and from now on you can do whatever you like. If you happen to have another stupid idea brewing in your head at this moment, just do it. I won’t stop you.’ said Manuel calmly.

‘How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not a three-year-old?’

Manuel rolled his eyes and faked an attitude of contemplation, ‘Until you are mature enough to distinguish between right and wrong.’

‘You think I’m an irredeemably spoiled child, is that so?’

‘You ran out!’ Manuel suddenly flew into passion, ‘I told you to stay in the rooms, but you refused to listen, you threw caution to the wind and sneaked out like a petulant child! What do you expect me to make of it?’

‘The reason why I ran out–’ snapped Thomas as he enunciated each word slowly and clearly with his teeth tightly clenched, looking like a beast in rage, ‘–was that I was endeavouring to find out their whereabouts. I went out for a solemn mission and with a rightful reason. If you expect me to be an obedient client like Lewy, who would follow whatever you say, then you are wrong!’

‘I never expect you to act like an obedient client, I just want to talk some sense into you. This is no longer a game of some sort. The Brotherhood is hunting for you, they even send a threatening letter! You are in grave danger! I’m trying to protect you, can’t you see?’ After a barrage of severe reprimands Manuel paused to take in a breath before opening his mouth again, ‘And how many times do I have to tell you, it’s Mr. Lewandowski, not Lewy!’

‘I call him whatever I prefer!’ yelled Thomas, and paused for a second before he breathed out a sorrowful chuckle in disbelief, ‘And protect me, really? You don’t even have the gut to bare your heart and now you dare say that you will protect me from those vicious cold-blooded armed gangsters. You really expect me to buy it?’

Manuel was silenced by his query. In most cases Thomas would find himself overwhelmed with triumphant buoyancy whenever he beat Manuel at squabbles, whereas this time not even a single drop of satisfaction trickled into his mind. Haggard and exhausted with a lined forehead, he threw his arms in surrender and shambled to sofa, dropping into soft cushions. Presently, Manuel flopped down into an armchair, stretching his long legs whilst posing an attitude of doze.

While still drowsing, Manuel opened one eyelid a crack to peep at Thomas by stealth, which, to Manuel’s much embarrassment, was caught red-handed when their sights locked.

‘I thought you could hold a little bit longer.’ Thomas snorted a spikey laugh, ‘Seems that I overestimate you.’

Manuel sighed, ‘Fine, I surrender, you win. If you have any other hilarious caustic comments which you didn’t find the opportune moment to say, now there’s a perfect chance for you to pour them out. I’m all ears.’

It looked as if Manuel was preparing to give the comments a big hug with his arms outstretched to the maximum. But what happened next took a turn when Thomas decided to put their arguments aside temporarily and whispered, ‘They held Mats captive.’

‘What?’ Manuel quirked an eyebrow.

‘The Brotherhood held my friend captive, the one who helped fake my death. He’s their technician.’ Thomas’ gaze dropped to his intertwined sweaty fingers, ‘I should have seen this coming. Löw wants him zapped. There’s not much time left.’ 

‘We’ll find him.’ Manuel assured him with confidence. ‘But, the premise is that you won’t mess around and wreck my plan.’

‘Right, your plan,’ Thomas hummed, ‘Your plan is to ground me for the rest of my life.’ He sprung to his feet and grabbed the crumpled map before stomping back to his room.

As night grew darker the street became empty and forlorn. Manuel stood sentinel over the window with full vigilance, surveying minutely at everything suspicious. Minutes later Benedikt called and recapitulated their plan again in brief narration.

‘Remember to keep your head down, otherwise our plan will be sunk. Let me know if there’s anything wrong with your headset.’ said Benedikt, ‘And collect yourself, alright? I can hear you sweating.’

Manuel stood stock-still for another moment after hanging up the phone. When the street was cleared off walkers-by he came to Thomas’ room, tapped on the door and poked his head in after being permitted. ‘Thomas, I need you to come out now.’ said Manuel briefly, ‘Stay in my room, don’t roam around and keep your head down.’

Although with a disgruntled look and a heavy sigh, Thomas followed his words anyway, brushing past Manuel and shuffling to the adjacent bedroom, seated himself on the wooden floor, whiling away the time fiddling with a deck of cards. He shuffled the cards, dealt out and then collected them up and kept repeating the process as if there had been a well set-up procedure programmed in his head before. While he was busy playing with cards, Manuel was occupied setting everything in order. A thick cardboard in the shape of Thomas’ slim frame was fixed by the window, following the instructions of Benedikt, so as to outline his shadow on the window. After finishing setting everything up, Manuel crawled back to his room to join Thomas.

‘You crawled back? Is it really necessary?’ Thomas gaped at him, dumbfounded with an open mouth.

‘It is.’ enunciated Manuel crossly, meanwhile yanked open a drawer and took out two pistols. He laid them heavily on the floor with a thwack, ‘Take yours.’

Thomas darted a stern sidelong glance at him with his lips twitched while taking his pistol, a hint of displeasure in his voice, ‘Is it loaded?’

In answer to his question, Manuel chucked him a clip. ‘Need me to help you with that?’ He asked after he got his own clip in the breech with a somewhat challenging air. He was silenced by a click in the next second and found himself faced with a cold black muzzle.

‘Admit it, I beat you on this.’ snorted Thomas dismissively, a lopsided grin of pride curving his lips.

‘I won’t be so certain of that.’ croaked Manuel with resolution, aiming the pistol at his chest, refusing to reconcile himself to that arrogant gloating face.

There was a beat missed, followed by a brooding silence as they both froze while contemplating respectively. At last it was Thomas who detached himself from the cocoon of thoughts first and broke the silence, daringly challenged, ‘Go on then, pull the trigger.’

‘Stop being ridiculous.’ Manuel chastised, dropping his weapon. His icy attitude put Thomas’ nose out of joint which in returned, earned himself a furious glare. Having his spirits dampened, Thomas tossed the pistol away and again picked up his interests in playing cards out of boredom.

During the long agonizing wait Manuel crawled to Thomas’ room several times to adjust the position of the cardboard to give an impression that there was indeed a person sitting behind the glass, not a lifeless cardboard stuck on the window. When the hour-hand hit eight, Benedikt called him up and informed him that his men were all in position.

‘And I have already set everything up.’ answered Manuel, ‘You see the shadow outlining on the window?’

‘Ah, I see it. Nicely done.’ Benedikt expressed a heartfelt praise, ‘And how’s your dearly beloved? You know, if you are still seeking for a moment to bare your heart, this is it. At least that’s what Hollywood movies keep telling us. The war is bearing down, and the loving couple feel the urgency to get across to each other but the likelihood is that one of them might meet his demise in the following storyline, pitifully. I’m not implying anything, just to remind you though–’ babbled him in jest.

Manuel didn’t know why he was in the mood for joking, however, he couldn’t bring himself to fuss about it when he was landed in an extremely awkward situation where every single word of their conversation flowed out in fluid streams, as clear as the ring of bells.

‘Shut it, Benni. I’m trying to work.’ hissed Manuel in undertones, feeling his cheeks grow crimson and meanwhile flashing a quick glance at Thomas discreetly. Trying to not to be descended into bigger problems, he hung up the phone quickly after exchanging goodbye hastily. Barely had he put down the phone before Thomas opened his mouth, ‘I’m all ears if you have something to say.’ said him calmly while shuffling the cards absentmindedly.

‘I… um, need some time to prepare myself for this, in case I speak out of turn.’ stuttered Manuel nervously, looking abashed as his gaze roamed aimlessly in the room, ‘And I thought we agreed that we’ll save it until this is settled?’

‘That was all in the past. But now things are different.’

‘I promised you I would give you an answer when this is over. I won’t back out. A promise is a promise.’

‘You said the exact same things the day when we left the school. And you failed to keep your words.’ Thomas shot a resentful look at him, ‘Liar.’ He growled indignantly, shoving the deck of cards aside with asperity, looking distracted and upset, ‘You thought I was the one who left you for no reason but in fact it was you who chose to step back, with a laughable shitty reason though.’

Manuel dropped his gaze. His irresolution in the past was now dragging him into a chasm and the backfire caused by it was disastrous. He felt his sweat trickling down like drizzles while his heart became weak and lifeless like dying fish writhing in the drying up puddles.

‘Remember the prom?’ he heard Thomas continuing, ‘I thought you were going to ask me to be your partner. Once I heard you muttering to a tree, rehearsing again and again, intoning my name and weighing your words like a pedant. You know, I was a bit of overjoyed at that time. I waited for your next move but it never came.’ Thomas paused, glaring at him while anger and disappointment welled up within him as he felt a lump in his throat, a veil of melancholy casting a dim shadow on his face. His words were as clear and loud as thunder yet Manuel felt them distant and obscure. ‘Why didn’t you just come to me? Why wouldn’t you come to me directly and just ask me to be your partner?’ He heard him questioning in an accusing voice.

In the sheer silence it seemed that Manuel didn’t have the courage to raise his voice to defend himself but to keep it in undertones as if in fear that it might destroy the precious yet brief moment of peace and quiet which was so rare to see in the past days.

‘I’m not trying to make excuse for what I had done before but… ’ Manuel peeped carefully, ‘I didn’t like it to be a lamentable imperfection, so to speak, cause it was just so important. I wished it to be perfectly polished. I rehearsed it repeatedly but it seemed to me that the remarks were always somewhat thoughtless, dumb as hell and I couldn’t bring myself to say something of such levity and stupidity… Well, but now I know you don't give a fig for those insignificance.’ he snorted a grievous chuckle and shook his head slightly, ‘If only I had known it earlier.’

‘And now you know it, will there be any difference this time?’ persisted Thomas, he appeared to be a little bit anxious and all of a sudden his temper frayed as this hopeless wait started wearing him out, ‘Manuel, please. Say you want me to be your dancing partner, say you want me to be your guy.’ He eagerly leaned forward, raring to prise open Manuel’s tightly clenched lips to force out an answer with sparkles of desperate expectation flaring feverishly in his eyes. ‘I would say yes as long as you dare ask.’

That was what he always yearned for. Manuel wanted this for years and again Thomas handed it on the silver platter. All he needed to do was pick it up and seize it in his own grasp. But it didn’t feel right, to accept what was offered right in front of him was not his thing. And he didn’t like being forced to accept an offer, even though it was a tempting one. He oscillated in the face of a tough decision.

Thomas must have noted his irresolution as clearly there was a sign of retreat guttering in his eyes. ‘I know you don’t dare say it. It’s a foregone conclusion, I’m not surprised at all.’

‘Wait, it’s not like that. I can explain–’

‘Ah, here we go again. Always an explanation, another lame excuse, I’m fed up with it! Can’t you just come out of your godforsaken shell and say the word for once in your life?’

‘Can’t we just save it until this case is settled? I’m already worn-out these days dealing with the Brotherhood and all of a sudden I find myself in a dilemma of having to deal with my hysterical squeaking roommate on top of that. What? You think I have two brains?’ Manuel paused to draw a breath while shooting a stern reproachful look at him, ‘Two days before even you agreed that we should prioritize the needs of our client but now you suddenly throw it off your head and act like a wilful child. What are you thinking?’

Thomas sat a bit more upright to whistle in the dark, nevertheless, his fidgeting gesture and evading dazed eyes betrayed the extreme anxiety and fear which caused a slight collywobbles churning up inside his stomach. ‘What if they kill me?’ he asked in an uncertain tone, ‘They already hold my friend captive and now they are after me. Who knows if they’ll dump me into that shark pool as well? You want me to turn in my grave while still lamenting your dumbness and obtuseness?’

‘Nonsense. You won’t die. I promise you I’ll protect you till I draw my last breath.’

‘Protect me, with what? This?’ Thomas lifted the pistol, quirking his eyebrow, ‘I dare you to pull the trigger.’

As Manuel was about to retort, a deafening explosive bang brutally interrupted him in the nick of time. The windows were shattered into pieces and the debris flew over their head like thick torrents.

‘Get down!’ shrilled Manuel frantically. In a split second he pounced on Thomas instinctively, pulling him down and sheltering him under himself, waiting for this torrential storm to die down. In between silvery tinkles Manuel heard two squealing gunshots. He turned on the headset, through which Benedikt’s clear voice came in.

‘You alright?’

‘Yeah, we are okay.’ Manuel croaked hoarsely, still a bit of shocked. The torrents of shards of glass subsided at this moment, the splinters dropping everywhere and the bed all covered with a thick layer of debris. Manuel hauled himself up promptly as the shards falling on him tinkled to the floor in a tuneful melody. Thomas quickly crawled out beneath Manuel’s robust torso and thanks to Manuel’s quick reflexes, he was clear of being showered down by the torrential rain of splinters. 

Manuel adjusted his headset which was knocked slightly askew by his sudden movement before he inquired urgently, ‘You find the shooter?’ 

There was no answer reaching him but a commotion of roars and hurried footsteps instead. Thomas gazed at Manuel intently with a questioning look and leaned closer to him so as to hear it clearer. For a long time there was only disturbing crackles which was of no use to them but to intensify the anxiety. The panic deep in his mind bubbled to the surface when Thomas kept pulling at the sheet dangling over the edge of the bed, which didn’t go unnoticed by Manuel. Although just as flustered as his deeply bothered friend, Manuel tried to keep himself as calm and collected as possible, racking his brain to come up with something soothing while unfortunately they were in no small part obscured by the nerve-racking noises coming from the headphone.

Manuel was brutally interrupted in midstream by a piercing squeak which almost perforated their eardrums when he was consoling Thomas. Benedikt’s was back on line following the shrill noises in the headphone.

‘We have the gunman.’ said him frankly.

With that remark it seemed that the dust finally settled, had it not been the gunshot at the front door. ‘Shit.’ cursed Manuel under his breath. He took the pistol and scurried out of the room whilst calling on Thomas to stay put. While he was in a flurry there followed another two squealing gunshots. ‘There’s another guy at the front door.’ He said to the microphone, ‘He’s armed.’

Manuel waited in ambush and aimed his gun at the threshold, his index finger on the trigger. In the agonizing silence he didn’t dare to let out any sound, holding his breath for the upcoming raid. However it didn’t come as was expected. Manuel furrowed his brows, thrown by this anomaly of eerie peace and tranquillity.

He didn’t have enough time to think it over when out of suddenness Thomas trotted out of the bedroom, ‘What are you doing? I told you to stay inside!’

‘Same question to you. Might I ask why you are aiming your gun at the door?’ Thomas yanked him away from the door, ‘He’s on the roof. Can’t you hear it?’

Manuel was struck numb for a second. Having regained his composure, he buckled down and pricked up his ears for any subtle moves on the roof. It didn’t take long before he captured a fit of scuffling sounds above his head. The guy was ghosting on the tiles like a predator creeping stealthily to its prey, from left to right. Unlike what was depicted in romantic fairy tales, when the stalker appeared by the window and prepared to leap inside with a glamorous landing, all he found out was that he was faced with two cold muzzles, not the warm hug and sweet kiss of a princess.

‘Drop your weapon.’ Manuel warned him in a commanding voice when he noticed the stalker’s attempt to bring out the pistol buckled on the belt, ‘Don’t make me say that again.’

‘Don’t you dare talk to me like that.’ The shadow hissed in a menacing tone.

Though growled resentfully under his breath, the stalker obediently dropped the gun nevertheless and slowly walked into the light with his hands up in the air. Manuel presumed that the guy was about their age, probably one or two years younger judging by his look.

‘Jogi says hello, consultant.’ He gnarled at Thomas, a desire for vengeance dangerously lurking in his malevolent grey eyes.

‘To hell with his regards. I’m well out of this business long ago.’ Thomas returned with a steely detached tone.

After making sure that the young stalker could no longer pose a threat to them, Manuel dropped his own pistol and called to Benedikt, ‘We have the other shooter under control. Send a team up here.’

While they were waiting for the inspectors to take over, the stalker gave Thomas a thorough survey with viciously narrowed eyes at gunpoint. The latter refused to drop his gun. He was highly alerted like a guard dog while keeping a watchful eye on the gangster. A squad of three officers soon came to the spot and took the guy out of the house. Seconds later they both heard a rather disturbing commotion out on the street which once more stirred their hardly-settled minds.

‘I’ll go check it out. You stay here.’ said Manuel briefly and scurried down the stairs in quick paces. An uproar of rebellious fights emerged when the policemen were trying to handcuff the guy. Another squad of officers ran to their aid. With a tearful groan the stalker was finally subdued.

‘All settled?’ Benedikt came in brisk trots with a lined forehead. The furrows slightly untwisted when he was greeted by the officer with an affirmative nod, ‘Okay, take him to the van.’

Manuel turned to him, ‘Have you found anything else?’ asked him while discreetly gazing around with his eagle-eyes.

‘Nothing yet.’ Benedikt shrugged with a puzzled frown.

Deeply immersed in the heated discussion and turning their backs to the others, both of them paid little attention to what happened at the back when a spark flared up as the stalker started wriggling like a slimy eel and eventually succeeded in breaking free from the restraint. Manuel was still oblivious even if the spark already blazed into furious flames when the guy hurled himself up to him in a brassy muddle of yells and curses, gambling his life on this like a desperate beast forced to a corner. He wrestled a gun out of an officer’s grasp and aimed it at Manuel, fingers on the trigger and ready to pull it at any point.

Manuel was almost deafened by a shrill explosive squeal. He felt a light breeze as the bullet whistled past his ear. He heard the bullet hitting its target, the cold metal thrusting into the flesh which sounded solid but in the meantime so unreal to Manuel. Turning around instinctively to look for the sources of the sounds, he saw the stalker lying on the ground, writhing and moaning in pain with his left hand pressing against the shoulder from where the blood trickled between his fingers.

Having ripped his gaze away from the bloody and painful scene, while still in shock and a bit of obtuse as to comprehend the whole situation, slowly and conflicted, Manuel turned his gaze back to see Thomas standing steadfastly in front of him with a gun in his hands. In the shimmers of the streetlights he could make out the obscure outline of a thin twist of smoke swirling up from the muzzle.

For a long time they just froze there in silence, face to face with their gazes fixed on each other. Manuel didn’t know how to digest the chain of drama happened tonight, especially the one which just happened before him. He always took that remark of pulling-the-trigger as an unintentional boast. He never expected it to be real. 

Well, it appeared that Manuel probably underestimated his resolution and seriousness when he uttered this remark. Manuel felt himself the biggest ignorant moron as the fragments of memories tonight flashed through his mind, when he arrogantly bragged to Thomas that he could well protect him from all those vicious gangsters. It baffled him where he got the guts to be so bombastic when he looked into the eyes where flames of persevering determination and courage of protecting his important one were burning feverishly.

The barrel was soon chilled. The thin smoke gradually dissolved into the air and being a highly alerted guard dog as he was, not until then did Thomas finally drop his weapon whilst his features softened a little bit. He walked to Manuel in steadfast paces and slammed the pistol on his hands.

‘I, um…’ Manuel stammered, ‘thanks for saving me…’

‘Save it.’ Thomas brushed past him, leaving with a sniff of profound bitterness.

Manuel was sure he just had the same bitter taste seeing the lanky silhouette slowly receding away. He stood there motionless as if he had been petrified, unwilling to tear his brooding eyes away. Benedikt was stunned to found out that his gaze was still fixed on the figure swaying in the distance after finishing giving a rash of instructions to his men.

‘You know I personally have a theory,’ Benedikt chimed in, waking Manuel up from the gloomy contemplation, ‘that it’s good thing that you haven’t bared your heart to him, otherwise you might be killed right here, by that gangster or that bullet which in this case was in a likelihood to drift off its original path. Blissful beginnings, distressful twists and at last sorrowful endings, any way to cut it, just common patterns of Hollywood movies.

‘Benni, one more shitty joke and I’m gonna pull the trigger, I mean it.’

It was a long night for all of them. While pacing around among the officers, Thomas could see the exhaustion clearly written on their faces. They were busy giving a minute scrutiny to any possible lead left in the crime scene after having the wounded stalker sent to the hospital. Shards of glass laid scattered all over the pavement, reflecting the thin light of lamps which gave people a delusion of walking into a stream of gems.

A small piece of metal stood out in particular in the gleaming stream, which caught Thomas’ attention. He carefully picked it up and let it roll on his palm. It was a spent cartridge, shining proudly in its brassy glitters. Its sudden appearance aroused a trace of uneasy feeling inside Thomas, nevertheless he didn’t bother thinking it over but handed it out straight when an officer required it back for evidence. The officer cautiously put it into a transparent security bag which contained several other spent cartridges collected from elsewhere and left in a brisk trot under Thomas’ watchful eye.

So once again he was left alone in a pitch dark night, thought Thomas inwardly while making a face at those guys in a cheerful flurry in the distance. Breathing a long sigh of relief, deep down Thomas half suspected that maybe things finally slowed down after a night of hassle.

‘Mr. Müller?’ A tentative voice interrupted his thoughts. At this inquiry Thomas jerked his head away to see a police van parked by him. An officer poked his head out and gestured at the backseat, ‘The gunman says he has a word for you. Do you think if it’s necessary to notify Inspector first–’

Thomas stopped him, ‘It's alright. Let me deal with it.’ 

The shooter was tied up in the back of the car. He seemed to be a bit of disoriented when Thomas unexpectedly yanked the back door open, blinking his watery eyes due to the sudden intrusion of bright light.

‘Oh, so you are indeed back from hell.’ The shooter snorted a sarcastic laugh. In the light from the lamps Thomas recognized his face. This guy had been with Löw since early, and was known for his contradicted nature of cunning and recklessness. ‘Seeing an old comrade back to life is what you would least expect at a dreary moist night.’ said him in a drawl.

‘What are you suggesting?’

‘Jogi wants me to deliver a message.’

Thomas let out a thin chuckle, ‘Well, you can tell him when you are allowed to make a call from the cell, that he’s unfortunately rejected. Do you need a solicitor?’

The shooter didn’t bite the bait. He was never appreciative of Thomas’ somewhat obscure withering humour. ‘I’m here to tell you that your old pal is now teetering on the brink of the shark pool.’ His thin lips twisted into a sneer, ‘I don’t know what it’s like looking down at those monsters waiting in the waters, eagerly opening their mouths showing their rows of razor-sharp teeth,’ said him in a condescending attitude as his head wagged like waves in a smug way, ‘but I guess I’ll soon get an answer from Hummels, well, if skeletons could talk.’

‘I’m not certain whether or not skeletons are capable of talking, but I’m positive that there’s one muttonhead who definitely have the capacity of talking nonsense. Truly a pathetic stain in the history of evolution.’ Thomas jeered in a dramatic tone and faked a look of sadness.

The shooter’s face hardened. For an instant it seemed that he had the intention of tearing him into pieces under the wrath as a grim shadow projected the gloomy image of a demon with fangs and talons on his face. But he managed to restrain his anger at last second and slowly opened his mouth with a challenging look, ‘So how did things go last night? I suppose it went quite smooth huh?’

Thomas felt his heart missed a beat. He already smelled a rat from his wretched smug smirk. It was very likely that the Brotherhood had woken up to his secret contact with Mats last night and to expect the worst, it was highly probable that they might find the secrets behind the whole trick of faking death as long as they kept digging.

And then Mats would be doomed in no time.

Driven into a corner and desperate for help, subconsciously, Thomas darted his eyes to Manuel, who at this time were too occupied to pay least attention to his partner. Manuel, along with Benedikt, was crowded around by a group of officers coming up for further instructions. Benedikt felt a heavy burden was finally unloaded after hearing out a recap on everything happened tonight and let out a joyous sigh of relief. However, Manuel insensitively put a damper on his good mood by saying, ‘I had a bad vibe that this isn’t over.’

Benedikt quirked his eyebrow in amusement, ‘Of course this isn’t over, we have yet to find out their whereabouts.’

‘No, I’m not saying this–’ 

‘Sorry to interrupt, sir.’ An officer chimed in courteously, ‘Inspector, these are all the spent cartridges I’ve collected on the scene.’

He handed Benedikt the security bag. ‘Seven in total.’ Benedikt quickly counted up the numbers, ‘Alright, Jule, secure this with other evidence and take them back to the station-house.’

The young officer left briskly after an affirmative nod, running into the distance. While watching the silhouette melting in the darkness in breezy trots, all of a sudden Manuel was hit by an unexpected suspicion.

‘Wait, how many gunshots did you hear?’

Benedikt thought for a moment, ‘Six.’

‘Okay, six shots, but seven spent cartridges?’ persisted Manuel eagerly.

Benedikt was struck speechless for a while, numb with flashes of thoughts racing in his head copiously. As he stood there bothered, a few steps away, beyond their hearing range, the shooter was still spitting out provocative words. ‘I have a doubt which has plagued me for years that is in a dire need to be cleared up, considering the current situation, obviously.’ he blinked as a crafty snigger stealthily touched his lips, ‘The only time Hummels was out on a field mission, he was with you, on a mission which reportedly cost your life. Since he was the one last seeing you alive, and also the one who brought us with the sad news of your death, and let’s not forget that he’s an able technician, now, could you please tell me which part he played in this brilliant hoax of rising from the dead?’

‘You are bluffing.’ asserted Thomas with a grave look. Although his voice was not very steady.

The shooter was not wavered, but kept provoking and scoffing comfortably in his own rhythms, ‘I prefer to keep it only between us. But, as you would expect, I will not let this secret rot with me in the cell. Hence, if I’m allowed to make that call–’

He was cut off in midstream with a loud bang as Thomas suddenly threw himself at him against the hard side of the van. ‘You hear this out–’ snarled Thomas under his breath, snatching him by the collar with all his strength, ‘–if he goes, you go. You might as well deliver this message to your boss.’

On hearing this, an eerie gruesome smile twisted the shooter’s face into an even creepier look with those mottled teeth gleaming in grim lights, ‘If you mean threatening, you have to be harder.’ He sniggered as a hint of menace dangerously lurked in his voice, ‘And you may find it surprising that I myself also have a message for you.’ croaked him hoarsely in a tone of arrogance.

‘Surprise me.’

The shooter snorted a laugh before whispering by his ear in ominous hiss, ‘Drive.’

Thomas cocked his eyebrow, as bemused as Manuel who was now staring at the infinite darkness in bewilderment, still mulling over the enigma of inequality between the gunshots and the spent cartridges.

Suddenly it all clicked when Manuel saw the police van quietly hidden behind the dark curtains of night, far away from the spotlight under which the crowds were all gathered. _Diversion._

‘Thomas!’

At the shrill shriek Thomas jerked his head away to figure out what was happening. While he was distracted at the moment, the shooter swooped down on him like a savage beast with bared fangs and claws pouncing on its prey in the nick of time. His head banged heavily against the hard floor of the chassis and spun dizzily with the loud bump still crashing against his eardrums. He was completely pinned down and it was impossible for him to throw the bulky bloke off himself, considering the drastic contrast between their sizes. Thomas started regretting why he hadn’t thought about practicing martial arts before.

In an attempt to look for something to counter against the guy, Thomas’ eyes roved fiercely round everywhere in the trunk while he still tenaciously fighting against the shooter with his slender limbs and out of pure suddenness, his eyes caught a grim nightmarish sight which might haunt him for the rest of his life. Thomas felt his blood chill when he saw the driver lay dead on the floor through the sheer crack between the bottom of the passenger’s seat and the carpeted floor. The hair on the back of his nape bristled in grave horror when his eyes met those hollow ones.

The engine roared with a quake, and in two shakes it dashed forward after a hard slam on the brake. Thomas was fully aware that he’d be dead as a doornail if he fell in their hands and consequently, the struggle was even fiercer as he tried to move his every muscle to ward off the bulk. Tired of ceaseless combats, the shooter took out a crumpled cloth to cover his snout. In company with this was a strangely sweet odour penetrating through his nostrils.

_Chloroform_ , screamed Thomas inwardly, trying to hold his breath whilst desperate to get this awful thing off. It was slowly paralyzing his nerves and rendering him tardy and numb.

Although already half dazed, he could still hear a commotion of squeals and footsteps chasing behind, and several gunshots letting out clear silvery tinkles when they hit the hard steel of the van. Slowly the sounds became obscure, nothing more than snatches of whispers until they gradually faded away and eventually vanished from his head when he became unconscious as dead, falling into a trance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About 'shark pool', not the best trick to bring some comic arcs to you-know-who but still better than nothing. I remembered there was once in an old movie where the supervillain brought up the idea of forming a troop in which the soldiers were all required to ride on the back of the sharks (something like that, I can't recall all the details) And besides, I like sharks so that's how this thing comes out ;-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can't believe I actually wrote 30k so that I could read the sexual content in a story with plot (that't what you call self-indulgence)

‘What am I thinking? I should never have let him out of my sight!’ snapped Manuel the instant he was back in the apartment, with Benedikt following behind. He had chased the van for two blocks until he was completely drained and couldn’t bring himself to move another step forward. Downright beaten and extremely exhausted, he dropped to his knees while watching the van triumphantly burning down the road in despair, feeling his eyes painfully stung by the dazzling tail-light. 

For the better part of the walk back home, Manuel was uncharacteristically quiet even with Benedikt by his side. The latter had already foreseen a fierce thunderstorm ahead of them while on the way back, however, it still stunned him to the utmost when he was greeted by the paroxysm of yells.

‘It’s no use chastising yourself, Manuel.’ said Benedikt gently.

‘I’m not chastising myself, I’m just being angry, for making myself a moron!’ Manuel snarled in depression, stomped away as his boots hammered heavily on the old wooden floor as if trying to make it pay for the whole mess rooted in his moment’s inattention. He collapsed on the sofa like a deflated balloon with a vacant look. Benedikt later joined him. He, along with Manuel, looked like hell after a long exhausting yet fruitless pursuit. His hair ruffled with each strand stretching in a different direction, and his shirt-tails slipped out from under his belt.

‘Well, there’s not much difference here.’ Benedikt let out a sorrowful sigh, as depressed as Manuel.

In the following hours officers in twos and threes scuttled in and out of the apartment which at the present moment looked pretty much like the headquarters of the police. Copious loads of bad news were brought in as batches of people came and went, as a result of which, Manuel’s heart gradually sank to the bottom. Despaired and worn-out, Manuel felt his head went blank when he saw another young policeman step in with his tail between his legs and then leave with his shoulders hunched like the elder, which clearly was not a good sign. As if he hadn’t suffered enough misery tonight, to top it all off there was a slight malicious voice jeering in his head that his pledge was none other than a joke, that he should let his guard down and the upshot was that he witnessed Thomas abducted under his nose.

Manuel took out the pistol and gazed at it in frustration. The mighty weapon was proved to be of little use in his hands. Being a terrible shooter himself, he hadn’t thought about applying to this powerful weapon at first, not until he couldn’t move a step forward did he turn to it for help. Trembling horribly due to exhaustion, Manuel pulled the trigger and took his first shot which ended hitting nowhere. Manuel kept thinking what if he could be a bit more accurate, in retrospect.

Descended into utter desperation, he covered his face with a cushion to shield himself from light as if in hope that a little break in darkness might make him feel less guilty. In the pitch black every thump against his chest was as clear and heavy as that of when a bulk was stamping on the floor and as spikey as a reproach, refusing to resign itself to a moment of serenity. Having realized that it was improbable to make peace with the intensity inside himself, Manuel surrendered, tossing the cushion to elsewhere whilst giving vent to a heavy sigh.

Meanwhile a few steps straight ahead of him, Benedikt was eagerly whispering with an officer. For hours he had kept an attitude of prayer with his fingers interlaced and his eyebrows knitted as he shuffled to and fro, whereas now as their chats went further, that anxious look slowly turned to sadness. Manuel noted that he unlocked his fingers while they were talking and that there was a strange mixture of relief and pity on his face.

‘What happened?’ asked Manuel in whispers after the officer left the room for them.

Benedikt shook his head in anguish. Freezing there in the empty sitting room as his slender figure outlined a grey lonely shadow on the whitewashed wall, he looked so forlorn and disheartened. ‘Chris, the driver, was killed. They dumped the body in an alley four blocks away from here.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Manuel whispered. Admittedly, it was heartbreaking to learn about the miserable fate of Chris, yet he wasn’t so surprised. Thomas had warned him about their cruelty and it was their nature to be evil and bloodthirsty. He should see it coming. Nonetheless, it didn’t make him feel less painful. As he sat there rooted, he felt himself overcome by twinges of fear whilst he let his thoughts run wild, ‘What if they already killed him as well?’ He blurted out when he felt his nerve drawn taut to the maximum and couldn’t hold it anymore, ‘What if he–’

Benedikt cut him off, ‘They wouldn’t. They took great pains to plot this whole trick and I personally don’t believe they prefer to just give him a quick death after having gone through all this elaboration.’ With the remark, he then left Manuel to ponder on this while he himself turned around to be debriefed by his officers. When dealing with a thick stack of files brought by a young policeman, Benedikt caught a glimpse of Manuel deeply immersed in contemplation with a distressed look, ‘Don’t go to pieces over a conjecture, Manuel,’ Benedikt yelled at him, ‘I need you help me with this case.’ 

‘I’m not falling into pieces, I’m just trying to think–’ retorted Manuel in his own defence, ‘although it didn’t go smooth. My mind is in a chaos and I can’t come up with anything useful. And don’t tell me to take deep breath or something like that. I’ve tried it before and it didn’t work.’ Manuel added with a warning look when he noticed that Benedikt was about to pout. The latter allowed himself a thin smile.

‘I see. I might as well leave you there until you are collected.’ He turned back and continued scribbling on a pile of files. He halted the work at hand after a few strokes when an idea suddenly crossed his mind and prompted with a trace of hope in his tone, ‘You said Thomas was once with them. Did he leave any clue? Anything useful?’

Manuel blinked his dazed eyes in bemusement for what felt like ages and all of a sudden, he clapped the back of his head heavily and promptly sprung to his feet before scurrying into Thomas’ bedroom like a flash of lightning. ‘God! How could I forget this?’ he cried in a ridiculous high-pitched voice, ‘The map! Benni, come here and take a look.’

Pricked by the needle of curiosity, Benedikt stepped swiftly into the room to see Manuel holding a huge map of Munich before his eyes. There were several marks on the map, all circled in dull red ink which prompted Benedikt to take a closer look at them.

‘Seven marks initially, and then down to four. All in the proximity of the freeway, near the junction to be more precise.’ Murmured Benedikt, ‘But how should he know?’

Manuel bit his lips thoughtfully for a while, he then took a quick survey round and his eyes fell on the laptop on the bed, whose power light was still flashing. He tapped it lightly on the keyboard. The desktop was brought back to where Thomas had left it last time. Manuel quickly skimmed through the lines of words before letting out a heartfelt chuckle, ‘He’s right. They must lay hidden somewhere among these marked places.’

‘How do you know?’

‘The guy said he could hear rumbles of trunks from everywhere, so he must be kept somewhere near the motorway, at the conjunction.’ Manuel explained patiently as he ran a finger across the screen, ‘And here–’ he pointed at the last two lines, ‘he could see sunrise, which means, the window is facing southeast. Imagine yourself being held in a cell near conjunction, with a window facing southeast, from where you can’t see the motorway but chunks of farmland. There are only four places which are able to meet the aforementioned conditions at the same time.’ Manuel finished his explanation with a flick on the map.

‘Still, there are acres of land.’ Benedikt spoke with a troubled look, dampening Manuel’s hardly-regained buoyancy, ‘We can’t cover every inch of the territory, let alone we are now undermanned.’

It seemed that they once again hit a problem. Puzzled and fretting over a finding which ended up proving to be fruitless, Manuel flopped down on the bed in frustration while his eyes eagerly trailed on the roads thickly covering the map, in a vain attempt to see through those cramped words and dig out something useful. When he was on the verge of being cornered to the dead end, he saw a fighting chance coming to his aid as snatches of the conversation in the past conjured up. ‘Shark pool!’ crowed Manuel hysterically, jumping up and clapping his hand in exhilaration.

‘What’s that?’

‘Shark pool. Thomas said that Löw has a shark pool where he breeds a herd of sharks there, which means, he needs large amounts man-made sea water, in other words, copious amounts of sodium chloride, magnesium sulphate and potassium chloride and aluminium solution and so on… Go checking the orders, see if anyone buy all these things in large quantities.’

Benedikt motioned at the officers standing next to him, ‘You heard him. Now, get moving guys.’

After a long trance in pure darkness, Thomas woke up to an excruciating throb in the head accompanied by a strange disorientation when he saw a dim ray of sunlight penetrating through a chink in the curtains. He groaned faintly, felt his eyelids heavy as a shot and couldn’t fully uplift them. Through the hairline cracks he made out several vague shadows dancing in and out of his sight. They were saying something which he was too delirious to grasp. Subconsciously, he turned his head away, only to see another guy sitting upright alongside him. The guy was tied up, tightly bound to the chair. He was desperately trying to talk with him but could only hum and whine incoherently, cause his mouth was muffled up. Having blinked away the tears in his eyes, Thomas finally recognized the guy sitting next to him.

‘Mats?’ he ventured in whispers, managing to croak out his first remark today. Mats answered him with an even more inarticulate glottal deep in his throat.

It took him a while to get hold of the current situation after taking a quick glance around where he was held as consciousness started pouring back to him. The first thing that came home to him was that they were in a great peril and he didn’t bother racking his brain to work out the second or the third since in this case, all fell into insignificance, even the squabbles between him and Manuel.

_Maybe that one should be cancelled out,_ thought Thomas at this untimely moment, _there gotta be a winner between us._

He, like Mats, was bound to the chair with his hands fastened behind his back. His legs were also tied up. _So basically I could only wriggle like a worm, hilarious,_ Thomas gave vent to a bitter chuckle inwardly. Apart from them, there were like fifteen or so people in the cramped room, lining up against the walls with their chest puffed out like orderly scouts. In the centre of the room was a long table with four pointed corners. Seated on the far end of the table was the head of the Brotherhood, Joachim Löw, who was now gazing at them with a pondering yet amusing look. With the pomp and ceremony of grandeur, Thomas had a delusion that he was actually attending a grand trial. He found it hard to repress a mild giggle when the thought came to him.

‘What are you laughing at?’ asked Löw tentatively, a trace of curiosity mingled with displeasure in his voice.

‘Nothing.’ Thomas returned quickly, taking a deep breath to restrain the temptation to spit out a guffaw in his face and sitting a bit more upright. 

Clearly this simple remark didn’t incite any spirit within the ringleader. Instead, he started picking his nose to while away some time as he drowned himself in deep thoughts, which wasn’t very pleasant to see. Having had enough fun, Löw dropped his hands and said, ‘I heard you shot Jonas and got him sent to the cell?’

‘Ah, I see, the bulk snitched on me to you.’ Thomas joked, ‘So? Should I sound a trumpet of triumph or what… light bonfires?’

Löw shrugged in a brisk manner, ‘That’s not my business. The only thing I care about is your little secret, of how you managed to slip away under my nose.’ He darted a glance at Mats while slowly rubbing his chin with an air of menace, ‘I mean, even with some little help?’

_Here came the highlights._ Now Thomas knew what it felt like when, as an outcast of grave melancholy, forced to stand out in a spectacle of buoyancy and cheerfulness. It didn’t bring him any pleasure when showered in the blaze of sunrise but an illusion of seeing the grim sunset on the wane to the horizon, just like what Mats described in the message.

‘Look, I don’t know what you are talking about.’ Thomas faked a hearty laugh, ‘With that huge hooked nose – I mean, just look at it – every single one could easily get away from under your nose, right? Now that I could handle it all myself, why should I double the risk of being discovered to bring someone else into this plan?’

‘Well, but you contact him.’ Löw flicked his finger at Mats, who couldn’t argue in his own defence at the moment but to continuously flip his eyes between the two guys sitting across each other, ‘And he, apparently, wasn’t surprised at all when receiving a message from a long-dead comrade. What do you make of it, consultant?’

‘He might see the traces of me still breathing somewhere when he was browsing the internet or hacking into the systems–’ Thomas had no option but to brazen it out, ‘–you can’t rule out the possibility.’

‘Still, he chooses to hide it from me. And that is an act of betrayal.’ Said Löw in a hoarse steely voice as his grey eyes where around every corner skulked a spark of eerie malevolence were glaring at them like a crosshair fixing on its target. ‘I believe you both know that there’s no place for a betrayer. So his fate is pretty clear. I suppose we all know what awaits him.’

In between a gale of unpleasant hoarse laughter Thomas was desperate to make himself heard, ‘Wait!’ he yelled, ‘How do you suppose to fill the vacant position of technician if you were to dump him in that shark pool?’

‘Ah, I know you’ll bring it up. I’ve already found one.’

Bewilderment registered upon Thomas’ face. ‘Who?’

‘I’m looking at him.’

Thomas did a double-take when he heard the ambiguous remark, ‘You are not saying…’

‘It seems to me that this betrayer taught you well so I guess it will do…’Löw whistled with an indifferent look, ‘Since you are here now, I perceive I have the rightful reason to feed him to my lovely pets. And you mustn’t worry, I’ll keep you alive until I find the guy to fill the vacancy.’ A malicious sneer curved his thin lips with his nostrils flared spitefully, a murderous flames guttering in his grey eyes as he tasted the sweet flavour of revenge, ‘Now, are you satisfied with this explanation, my dear?’

A clear knock on the door brought down the curtain on a seemingly grinding wait, which, to Manuel, might be the most tuneful sound in the world at this time. He sprung to his feet and rushed to the officer who barely set foot on the wooden floor with an inquisitive look, ‘Have you found anything?’ he asked in a haste. Not until the officer gave him an affirmative nod did he find his throbbing heart finally settled a little bit.

‘We tracked the shipping address.’ The young officer answered, showing Benedikt the content on his laptop, ‘There’s one possible location. It matches all the descriptions.’

‘Do you think if this is their hideaway?’ prompted Benedikt as Manuel now joined him and craned his neck for a better look at the screen, ‘It’s said to be a chemical plant.’

Manuel studied it narrowly for a moment before letting out a paroxysm of cheers with a handclap out of excitement, ‘Of course it’s a perfect choice to camouflage it as a chemical plant!’ yelled Manuel ecstatically, swinging his arms in euphoria, ‘It must be it! Gear up, Benni! We are going to get him back!’

Benedikt motioned for his men to prepare and before he realized, Manuel already disappeared and ducked into his room, rummaging in the drawer for his gun. Seconds later he reappeared by the doorframe, with a shining pistol in his hand and steely determination on his face that said everything. 

‘Manu, we can't take you.’ Benedikt shook his head.

‘You can’t be! That’s my dope being held there and I’ll not sit here waiting for someone else to bring him back.’

‘I know Thomas is important to you but I need you to stop being emotional.’ said Benedikt in a rarely demanding voice, ‘Remember what happened the last time you confronted the Brotherhood?’

Benedikt’s words rendered him rooted for a while. Though it was approximately two years ago, the memories that night were still as vivid and clear as if he had been in them right now. The reminiscence swirled an awful nausea down in his stomach, nonetheless, it didn’t dam up his resolution to rescue the love of his life. ‘I’m going with you. You can’t stop me, Benni, not this time.’

Benedikt knew there was no way to talk Manuel out of this when his eyes met the blue ones, ‘Fine, you can come along. But remember, if there’s an officer within your shooting range, please, be very, very careful and make sure you won’t hurt him before pulling the trigger. Or you could just hide and let my men do their job, which I figure is far better. Please keep it in mind that do not shoot unless it’s a situation of life or death.’

‘I surely will not.’ guaranteed a seemingly overly confident Manuel, ‘Wait and see me wreak havoc in their den.’ He enthused, waving his pistol while brushing past Benedikt in quick trots.

Subdued and weary, Benedikt gave vent to a sigh of resignation which was obscured by the cheerful footsteps, ‘That’s exactly what I’m worried about.’

The vans glided at a rapid speed on the motorway in convoy. Among a row of quietly seated officers, Manuel were like a wild beast keeping squirming as the bulletproof vest made him quite uncomfortable. It felt like having a heavy shell sheathed on the torso, which was to his much distaste.

They reached their destination an hour later. Standing among vast chunks of farmland was the old, five-story building left to decay, at the mercy of the erosion of endless torrents and the torment of the baking sun. Against the grim backdrop of twilight the derelict plant looked like a monster ghosting on the land of desolation.

Outwardly it appeared to be unoccupied. However, in a faint ray of sunlight Manuel caught a dull shadow flickering past a window on the third floor. ‘You see the guy on the third floor?’ whispered Manuel in undertones, ‘Probably a scout.’

Benedikt returned a brief ‘hum’ as a reply whilst giving a quick survey on the building with eyes like gimlets, in the meantime promptly preparing himself with everything needed. He then turned to Manuel after finishing assigning the specific tasks to each group and asked in a tentative manner, ‘You sure you are ready for this?’

Manuel answered him with a silvery click by loading his gun.

‘Okay, I get it.’ At this point Benedikt didn’t raise any objection or query anymore. Instead, he thrust an intercom into Manuel’s hand, ‘Follow Jule. Just push the button if anything happens. And remember to mute your phone.’ He gently patted Manuel’s back with a warm fatherly smile, ‘Good luck, Manuel.’

Thomas was fully aware that something must go wrong when the shooter – or more precisely, his kidnapper – rashly bumped the door open and rushed into the room like a gust of wind, hastening with quick steps to Löw for a private talk. Clearly he was exchanging some important news with Löw in hushed whispers, his lips moving rapidly while spewing out torrents of words at his still-faced boss. Although devoid of emotions, Löw’s face hardened a little bit as the discussion went on. He looked ghastly horrible with flaring nostrils when the torrents of words finally subsided to short pants out of anxiety.

In the tormenting silence no one dared to even breathe too heavily, until Löw broke the silence first with his hoarse voice, ‘Ollie,’ he said to the shooter while lurching to his feet, ‘You stay here. And you–’ he gestured at a strapping man with broad shoulders and a square jaw, and jutted his chin at Mats, ‘–take him to the shark pool and then come to me. The rest of you follow me. We have a hard nut to crack.’

‘You can’t do that!’ Thomas shrilled in between Mats’ obscure muffled squeals when the guy grabbed him by the shoulder, ‘I mean, you shouldn’t. Just think about it, if the police caught you committing a murder on the spot, it’s an attempted murder and you might face a long-time stretch along with all your buddies here, which I figure, is not worthwhile. If you killed him here, then you might face life in prison and again, it’s not worth it.’ babbled Thomas quickly, ‘Should you get away from it, but, given that they are all in position right now and you are like those poor guys living in Pompeii, now besieged and bound to be doomed, consequently, you couldn’t run out of this. So the point is, you really shouldn’t dump him in that shark pool if you wished the judge to be lenient with you.’ 

Thomas thought there was at least a glimmer of hope when Löw suddenly came to a halt and appeared to be minutely deliberate on his advice as his face took on a contemplative look. However, he soon realized it was only a castle in the air when he noticed that a crooked sneer touched Löw’s thin lips, ‘I think you are mistaken, Thomas.’ He whispered by his ear. As the hot breath touched his skin and rustled through his hair Thomas had a horrible illusion that he was breathing flames at him. ‘I don’t care about the price I’m about to pay. I want him dead.’ He snorted a contemptuous brittle laugh, ‘How does it feel to find yourself responsible for the death of a friend whom you intended to save? Quite ironic, eh?’

‘You filthy.’ hissed Thomas through gritted teeth, ‘I curse you with the rest of my life.’

‘Which there is not much left.’ Löw cackled with obnoxious laughter, ‘Goodbye, Thomas, though I have an inkling that I’ll see you soon.’

In a chorus of laughter, squeaks and snarls, Löw left the room with the disdain written on his face, blended with a touch of eerie buoyancy as a desire for vengeance guttering dangerously in his grey eyes. Despite fighting tenaciously with all his strength, Mats was taken away, shouldered and unable to move. Thomas kept shrieking with curses at that guy’s tall and strong silhouette, spitting out the most unholy, malevolent swearing he could muster up at the moment until he screamed himself hoarse.

There was no hope. Though denying it vehemently, deep down Thomas knew it clearly that Mats was gone for good, unless there was a miracle. However Thomas was mature enough to not believe in fantasy. So immersed in remorse was he that he couldn’t hold back a tearful sob, feeling tears pricking his eyes.

‘Well well,’ an untimely jeering voice resonated in the room which was almost empty at this point. Thomas raised his head to see his kidnapper standing across him, his arms crossed loosely in a condescending manner, ‘now you must be regretful for not being harder with me and just strangling me to death right there and then. Otherwise none of these tragedies would have happened.’

‘Shut up right now or I’ll make you.’ snarled Thomas under his breath.

‘Pity that you haven’t learned at all.’

‘I won’t be so sure about that.’ said Thomas, meanwhile took a quick glance at the rope tied on his legs. It loosened a little bit. The loops on his thighs slipped down to his knees amid the fight between Mats and that thuggish bulk as he accidentally pulled them when he tried to get hold of Mats. He managed to wriggle his legs free by stealth while the guy was gazing out of the window, leaving several loops hidden under his feet. That was one step to success. However it meant nothing unless he could break free from the tight bind that chained him to the chair. He needed to find something to sever the rope.

It didn’t take him long to find what he was keen to seek for – the pointed corner of the table. Its sharp steel edge shone a cold metallic gleam in the lamplight, looking extremely captivating. He could use that to wrench free, provided that he was able to take down that bulky warden at first, which was the premise of everything. As his eyes roved around the room until they eventually fell on the hook fixed on the leg of the table, an idea quickly brewed in his head.

‘What are you up to?’ The bulk inquired, stretching his neck to check in on him from the far end of the table as he was suddenly alerted by a fit of hissing rustles stirred in where he was unable to see clearly.

‘Um, nothing here. I’m sitting still, as I’m supposed to, like a compliant child.’ blabbered Thomas as a touch of explicit nervousness flickered across his face and in the meantime he snatched a quick glance at down below, where the loop laid lifeless on the ground like a dead snake with one end of it already loosely hooked. ‘Don’t worry. I helped you check the things here and they all turned to be in place so there’s really nothing to be worried about. You can just stay there and even have a light doze if you feel like it.’

‘A light doze, huh? I won’t buy it, you sneaky little prick.’ A malicious sneer tugged the corner of his mouth as he stomped towards Thomas with a murderous look, ‘What are you trying to hide from me?’

He gazed down at Thomas in an air of arrogance as he slowly approached until he was only a step away from his prey and for a split second Thomas made a bold and prompt reaction by pulling the rope taut. In an exasperated roar the guy tripped in a violent lurch.

‘You should tie them harder, asshole!’ snapped Thomas infuriatingly, mustering up all his strength and mercilessly banging the bulk’s head against the pointed corner with his knees in a fluid, powerful motion. The guy was knocked out cold by the heavy crash, sliding down against the side of the table like a slippery eel and falling limp on the cold floor. Having ensured that the guy was indeed as unconscious as he appeared to be, Thomas started rubbing the rope against the sharp edge of the table without a second of delay, he soon slit a crack and managed to break free at last.

Thomas rummaged through the guy’s pocket for his phone but to no avail. With a heavy sigh he trotted to the window, out of where was a scene of serenity and peace. Down there was a fresh turquoise sea where acres of crops thrived in fertile soil, nothing else could be spotted, no sign of the presence of police. But he could hear trucks rumbling past, maybe he could hitch a ride as long as he found the way out of here.

He jerked away from the window when the room suddenly reverberated with a solid, rich sound coming from the other side. It was the reverberation of the phone. Thomas swallowed back a cheerful crow as he whirled around before zooming through the room to the bulk and hastening to embark on another round of search, tracing along the lining of his clothes as his fingers were navigated by the loud beeps. He finally found what he was searching for in a pocket hiding unspectacular on the inside near the waistline. He muted the phone once he fished it out and glanced at the screen. He had no idea to whom this number belonged but God blessed whoever called at this time.

Thomas called up Manuel immediately but in vain to get contact with him. He made a second attempt to reach him and this time with no luck either. Sighing, he clicked open the green icon on the top for a new message. His fingers tapped rapidly on the screen: _Dumbhead this is Thomas I’m fine still breathing gotta find a way to get back brew a fresh pot of coffee and wait for me._

He put the phone in his own pocket and then searched the guy for a weapon. Strangely this guy didn’t carry any weapon, which was beyond his comprehension. But he did find something valuable – his pocket watch, hidden in the pocket in which he had just found the phone.

‘This is mine you wretched thief.’ snorted Thomas indignantly. After making sure the watch hadn’t been wrecked and that it was still in function, he gingerly put it into the pocket sewn on the lining against his chest. To be honest, it was cold to the touch to have a large piece of metal clinging to your heart, but it actually felt nice to have a company even in this more or less pathetic way. 

He quickly tied the bulk up in case he would come after him once he woke up. Out in the distance several sporadic gunshots could be heard, which incited a paroxysm of nervousness down in his stomach. He quickly sprung to his heels and sneaked out of the room in no time.

_Hopefully they won’t take me as one of the Brotherhood and shoot me._

Thomas shook his head deprecatingly at this thought. In the pitch-dark void he could only feel his way out as he fumbled along the corridor while listening to the ceaseless deafening gunshots exploding far away but at the same time sounding everywhere. Surrounded by the thrilling echoes resonating within the halls, he felt himself a helpless cub lost in the dark woods with clusters of hungry predators at his heels, dreading over the thoughts of whether or not he could make it till the sunlight broke its way through dreary darkness.

Had it not been for Julian, the reliable officer whom Benedikt had assigned to be his navigator, Manuel would have long gotten lost in the maze of corridors and cubicles. As they ascended it became more and more stifling and dark. While they were still on the ground floor, although it was dim and black, they could still make out everything inside. Now all was plunged into darkness, where he felt himself losing the sense of everything – the smell was succumbed to the hot sticky air, the sound was obscured by the fierce gunshots echoing on the other side and now he was inclining to lose his sight of Julian. The tall slender figure dissolved into the darkness even though he was only two steps ahead of Manuel.

He had seen the shark pool that Thomas once mentioned the moment they entered this grim place. In Manuel’s view the said pool was more like a cage. It was tragic that those big monsters were confined to such small space, doing some somersaults in the waves like clowns and unable to roam freely like their kin out in the wild. The only thing that might make them on fire was probably the food coming down from the giant tube hanging above the dark heaving waters. The tube curved in mid-air, stretching upwards in a sharp slope.

Everyone was stunned by this eerie sight, seeing a herd of sharks clustering under the tube, writhing and scrambling for the higher position. They all froze there in the splattering noises as if they had been hexed, until a piercing gunshot brought them back to reality. Faced with the fierce raid, they were forced to split up under the pressure. Manuel tied his way with Julian while attempting to find a way up along the stairs on the flank of the building. Every now and then they could hear gunshots in the distance, yet strangely they hadn’t been confronted with an exchange of fire thus far, which was rather peculiar. 

‘I have a vibe that we are being watched–’

‘shhh,’ Julian cut him off in midstream with a warning look, ‘keep quiet!’

On hearing this, Manuel zipped his mouth shut obediently. Now they reached a platform rising above the third floor, where the path branched off into two directions. One extended forwards into what seemed to be a large platform for storage, whereas the other ascended upwards to the fourth floor, where there was darker and damper. Manuel felt an onrush of sultry air brushing down on him, bringing a waft of mildew.

‘Which way should we go?’ Manuel murmured in urgent undertones. But Julian already disappeared in darkness. Manuel assumed he went on to check on the things stored on the platform. He grumbled something incoherent to himself and right when he was about to follow there came a murmur of swish treading on the heels. Manuel was astounded and numbed for a second, he stood there motionless, waiting in darkness with his finger on the trigger. Soon another faint rustle drifted over.

Manuel raised his gun and aimed it at where the noises sounded. While creeping up the stairs he heard a fit of quiet footsteps. He was sure that someone just rustled past there, but what he was confronted with was infinite darkness and honestly speaking, if it hadn’t been for the current situation, he might have thought that whoever roamed past was a phantom.

He tiptoed on the fourth floor and found himself facing a long corridor. The stifling mouldy air and the eerie atmosphere oppressed him as he fumbled his way in the interminable hallway. It was ominously quiet here, not a single sound can be heard, no gunshots, no shouts and yells, and no breath as well. It felt unreal, as if there had been two different universes here in this building, at the bottom of which was a commotion of lively yells and explosive gunshots, with everything one would expect to see and hear in a gunfight, while on here there was nothing but deathly stillness.

He could hear it when a bead of sweat splattered on the ground and shattered into a splash. His hands were trembling, and his index finger was sore with stiffness as it held the preparing position of shooting for too long. He slowly crept along the wall and at least reached the other end of the corridor, walking right into a dead end. Manuel angrily slapped the hard wall in frustration. When he was bemoaning over his bad luck and chided himself for losing track of that mysterious phantom, an agonizing groan from the old shabby wooden floor caught his attention. It came from the room on his right.

There was nothing inside save some obsolete machines covered in heavy layers of dust, which were long abandoned, all scattered around the room. Manuel found himself standing on a pool of silver moonlight cast down through a large window on the left, a gentle breeze brushing his hot skin. The shadows of window frames stood out against the gleaming background, looking like giant crosses etched into the stinky eroded wood. Manuel wrinkled his nose at this sight. He had a strong sense of foreboding that something malicious was stirred and brewed in the dark.

And he was right. Back there behind the machines a shadow was ghosting through these giants standing in legions. Now Manuel could hear it clearly that there was another person breathing.

‘Freeze!’ Manuel called, while slowly moving forward step by step, aiming his pistol at the drifting shadow, ‘Step out, and hands in the air.’

As the shadow swayed in the darkness Manuel realized that there was another exit in the room. No wonder this room was airier than everywhere else on this floor. ‘Pity I’m not very cooperative.’ The shadow answered, still lingering behind his shields.

Manuel didn’t know how he was supposed to react to it. He wasn’t a trained officer and had absolutely no idea how to handle a situation like this – where he was confronted with a guy who on one hand, was as murderous and menacing as a hungry python and on the other hand however, seemed to have no intention of killing him right on the spot. He wasn’t a man of violence, even in this case, appealing to violence was saved till last.

_Maybe I can talk him out of this_ , thought Manuel, naively.

‘Step out so that we can sort out everything else.’ said Manuel in a collected tone, ‘I promise you I won’t shoot, as long as you do what I says.’

The shadow snorted a contemptuous chuckle, ‘Who are you to give me a command?’

‘And who are you?’

Following the heavy tread the shadow finally showed itself from the dark, walking into cold shimmers with a pistol in his hands, directing the muzzle at Manuel.

‘I’m Joachim Löw. You may know me as the head of the Brotherhood. And truth to be told, I’ve been quite attuned to you as well, which you may find incomprehensible. But you mustn’t worry. I believe we have enough time now to catch up on the missing particulars so as to tease out those knotted doubts.’ said Löw in a rather brisk tone, ‘What do you make of it, Herr Neuer?’ 

In the sheer darkness it felt like zigzagging through a labyrinth as Thomas kept bumping into dead ends while trapped in an old building with so many rooms and corridors, unarmed and all alone. Up till now he had passed through at least three exits but unluckily all of them were locked up from the inside. He was anxious to the point in which he seriously considered it a practical escape to climb down the water pipes on the exterior walls when he found another exit also locked. He banished this idea after giving a quick check on the nearest pipe, deciding that it was too weak to hold his weight.

Hunched while dragging his feet, Thomas resigned himself to running around like a headless chicken in this maze, cursing his jolly hard luck. He turned off at the farther end of the corridor and crunched across a narrow passage paved with rubble into what looked like to be a warehouse. There he saw the silver lining as he felt a draught ruffling across his hair. The door was open and beneath his feet was an intricately spiral flight of stairs descending into the dark abyss. It didn’t look very promising, but it was better than nothing.

The stairs were scattered with all sorts of mess, rubble, gravel, scraps and disused metallic cubes laying overspread. They showered down like heavy rain coming down in torrents as his feet scrunched down the staircases, though he was already as gentle and cautious as he could. One would discover him without even pricking his ears but thankfully they were all engaged in the fierce gunfight down there meaning that he was far away from the battlefield, which was good news for him. 

It was a deafening silence down here on the fourth floor. The air was heavy and suffocating, doming over him from any sound. He groped his way down the corridor for an exit and again, the nearest one was locked. A heavy chain twined itself around the handles from the inside into a graceful lock, jeering at him through the crack. Now he learned not to spill depression at it and just passed through it for the next exit.

_And that knucklehead said that I was a petulant child. He really should come and see this_ , grunted Thomas to himself as his lips were in a pout of displeasure.

Thomas trod quietly, fumbling in the dark for a way out. Out in the distance, at the far end of the hallway, was a mist of silver gleams. He came to a sudden halt and froze there for a moment, gazing at the shimmers and blinking his eyes several times to make sure that it was not his hallucinations. A swirl of excitement spiralling up inside him – It probably meant an exit. He bit his lips to suppress a joyous exclaim and walked towards it steadfastly in a cheerful mood, thinking that he finally found the beam of light to break the infinite darkness.

But the light, the saviour to a poor caged animal, was more like a mirage, the blossom in the mirror, of which Manuel was fully aware as he was now standing in it. It didn’t bring him the feeling of warmth or hope either, save a chill of fright as he looked into the odious grey eyes. In the cold moonlight Löw’s face radiated an eccentric shade of cyan that made him look like a hideous ghost, which gave Manuel goose-bumps. Even his voice was ghostly, faint and faraway like a siren’s song, echoing in the empty room.

‘I thought it would take at least two or three days for you to find this place but now it looks as if you were teleported here like a flash. Marvellous, you sure are full of surprise.’ Löw mused. However Manuel refused to dance to his tune, which put a damper to his spirits and he decided to leave out the light chats and cut to the chase.

‘I believed that was two years ago, if my memories didn’t fail me, which they never did in fact.’ Löw started pacing around in the room as the muzzled followed him. Manuel held his breath without a second of distraction, his eagle eyes fixed on the ghosting figure. ‘I assume you do remember him, right? Paul, does this name ring a bell?’

_Paul._ How could he forget. The memories on that night always came back to Manuel now and then, like a bunch of annoying relatives lodged in his heads and refused to leave. That night he tracked down this guy along with his fellow confederates after days of pursuit. The other gangsters were apprehended by a squad of officers led by Benedikt, but Paul, the sly, egotistical leader of this small group, sneaked out while everyone else was distracted. Manuel chased him alone to a warehouse as he was running to the entrance ahead which was lit by the dazzling headlights. It looked as though he was flying to the embrace of holy glitters. Suddenly he stopped, turned around and looked at him with a sneer.

‘You don’t even have a gun.’ He said, half amused, half bemused. 

‘I don’t need them.’

‘Then you should know it’s a huge mistake to come here with bare hands.’ snorted Paul. Maybe it was that detached and composed look on Manuel’s face that incited the anger within him that he suddenly flew off the handle and the next second, he pounced on Manuel and knocked him against the wall with a loud bang. ‘Who are you to look down on me, nipper? You think you can take me down with bare hands, huh, is that so? Is that so?’

Manuel answered him with a crisp click. As puzzled as a man perplexed by the riddles of Sphinx, he stood there motionless for a second whilst puffing out hot breath and as his gaze dropped he saw a silver ring shackled on his right wrist. The other half of the handcuff was locked on Manuel’s left wrist. He had tied them up together. 

‘Paul Jäger, you are under arrest.’ shouted Manuel in a hoarsely dry voice. He gave his wrist a mild shake which, in Paul’s view, looked as if he was showing off his new elaborate bracelet, ‘I’ve notified the officers out there. They already have this warehouse surrounded. There’s no way you can run out of this.’

There’s a beat of silence like that of the stillness before a thunderstorm after he finished his remarks. And all of a sudden he snatched Manuel by the collar with a paroxysm of roars and hysterical screams, totally losing it, ‘You think it’s a child’s play, isn’t it? A pair of handcuffs, that’s your weapon? Are you humiliating me?’ Driven by wrath he took out a gun and pointed it at Manuel, ‘You think that’s enough? Now look at this! This is what we use in a fair fight! Have you ever seen this before?’ 

Manuel didn’t like being threatened at gunpoint, but strangely he was way more composed and collected than he thought to be. He stared at the guy while panting silently, refusing to succumb as his face showed no sign of fear. Paul was even more aggressive as he felt himself challenged and taunted by a callow brat. He thrust the gun into Manuel’s fist, grabbing his hand and forcing him to aim it at himself.

‘You know what? This is how you do when you are faced with a gangster.’ Paul snarled as he tried to keep Manuel’s trembling hand steady, ‘Thrust your gun at his face! This is what you should do!’

‘Um, I think you are off the point…’ Manuel mumbled, endeavouring to make himself heard in between Paul’s bellows of rage whilst trying to wriggle his hand out of his firm grasp. Paul forced his index finger on the trigger and he feared he might accidentally pull it at any point. ‘Can we drop this thing first? I really don’t think it’s a good idea to have a gun pointing at your own face…’

What followed was all distorted and twisted in a deafening explosion. Manuel remembered he finally broke loose from Paul’s grasp, that his index finger left the trigger first and then it was his whole hand and in no longer than a second, the explosive sound was resonating in the whole warehouse. Manuel dropped his head to see the gun falling on the ground. When he looked up, he saw Paul still standing in front of him. A subtle trace of bewilderment flickered across his face for a split second but was soon replaced by horror when he saw what was supposed to be on Paul’s neck was all gone. He blew up his own head and literally became headless. Manuel let out a pathetic scream when he realized that he got himself tied up with a headless corpse.

What happened next was nothing but vague fragments as the only thing he could recall was wiggling his wrist and calling out to Benedikt in hysteria and begging him to ‘get this fucking thing off me’. In short, that really wasn’t a pleasant debut for a young detective.

‘That night I was there, at the warehouse.’ Löw said calmly, ‘I sat in my car, enjoying the drama from behind the windshield, expecting a tragic death for this lovely so-called detective like that of in ancient Greek tales and then boom–––’ Manuel was startled by his sudden yell, nearly dropping his gun, ‘dead and gone, my poor Paul, like a roasted duck.’

‘Sorry to let you down. And one more word, I didn’t kill him. He accidentally pulled the trigger during the tussle.’

‘Of course you didn’t kill him. I know you don’t have the gut to pull the trigger.’

Manuel lapsed into a thoughtful silence, an implicit hint of displeasure registering on his face. He gave a hard bite on his bottom lip in an exhibition of his resolution, holding his pistol a little bit tighter which didn’t go unnoticed by Löw. ‘There’s a difference between ‘dare not to do’ and ‘choose not to do’. And if you have known me since then, you’ll understand how much I’m against the misuse of violence.’ Manuel coaxed patiently, ‘We can still sort this out peacefully if you do as I say. Now, drop your gun.’

Löw uttered a spikey cackle, ‘I didn’t say you are not responsible for his death. Honestly, I’ve never had a moment of peace ever since Paul left me.’

‘You are seeking for revenge?’

‘I prefer to call it a price for you to pay.’ Löw corrected him, ‘A fair deal, one for one.’

Manuel allowed himself a bitter chuckle, ‘Well, that sounds quite fair. So you’ve plotted this whole thing, all for a fair revenge? Classic. But mind you we already have this building surrounded, with an elite squad down there. This place is now besieged, and all the possible lines of retreat are cut off. We hold all the aces. There’s no escape this time.’

‘Who says that? I still have an ace up my sleeve.’

On seeing him twitching his lips with an arrogant and challenging air and a vicious sneer radiated hysteria, Manuel was rooted to the spot while furrowing his eyebrows in bemusement. In no more than one second an ominous inkling crossed his mind and became clearer and clearer as he heard the footsteps out there echoing in the empty halls whilst fumbling in this way, which caused a chill down to his spine. He felt himself falling into an ice cave, his fingers numb with horror and all his hair bristling in panic when he noticed that Löw jerked his hand away and aimed his gun in another direction.

_Thomas._

One explosion. Two bullets. Two men down. It was all in a flash that Manuel wondered whether or not he did in fact pull the trigger. In a plume of smoke he saw the bullet flying directly to the man standing opposite and for a split second there seemed to be a trace of astonishment crossing his hollow eyes as he was overwhelmed by disbelief. And there was a most nerve-racking gasp sounding at around the same time accompanied by a shrill metallic tinkle. Manuel turned around to see Thomas lying deathly still in the doorway. He sprinted to him immediately without bothering to check if his enemy was still breathing or disarm him either. His nerves were too taut to think straight and his mind was too tense for anything else except for Thomas.

‘Hey dumbhead.’ Thomas joked, letting out a croak while he tried to take in a deep breath, as if there had been a lump in his throat. In Manuel’s view that definitely wasn’t a good sign. He knelt down beside him, incoherent with panic.

‘God. Where’s the wound? How bad are you wounded?’ He sputtered as his hands were fumbling on Thomas’ torso in a flurry, but Thomas just grabbed his hand away and softly breathed ‘it’s too late’ in response to his urgent inquiries. For an instant Manuel felt his head went totally blank.

‘No.’ He slurred with a vacant look on his face, his lips trembling like withering leaves in fierce icy blasts and his voice as hollow and faraway as whispers from another world, ‘No no no, it can’t be. You won’t die, you can’t… God, please… Help! Somebody! Help me!’ So despaired was he for the only answer he got was the echo of his own voice coming from the deep end of the dark interminable corridor. At the end of the tether he fumbled out the intercom and poked all the buttons in a hurry because he couldn’t recall which one was the correct, ‘Benedikt! Help!’

Strangely Thomas seemed to be totally unbothered by the paroxysm of hysterical screams. While he was as composed as a dying man who had accepted his tragic fate, he kept grumbling to himself as if in an attempt of hypnotizing himself, ‘Now you see I’ve been right about this the whole time. Not a day should be lost in being true to whom you love, and yourself as well, cause things just… happen so fast right?’ Thomas gazed at him while he breathed a sorrowful chuckle, ‘I’m not blaming you though. It’s partly my fault. I should have kicked your ass every time you fucking wavered.’

‘I’m sorry… I should have told you…’ Manuel could only choke out some incoherent words in between deep sobs, but it appeared that Thomas was immersed in his own thoughts.

‘I should just kick your ass then. Why didn’t I have the heart to kick your ass?’ he babbled, ‘Probably because it’s too juicy…’

Slowly his voice trailed off and dissolved into a loud sniff. Tears blurred Manuel’s vision. He cried like a baby and looked horrible but neither of them mattered at this point. He was desperate to wipe his face clean for he wanted to see Thomas clearly one last time, but all his efforts were to no avail as tears streamed down uncontrolled. ‘I’m an idiot… I’m so sorry, I let you down. I should have brought this up long ago but I always step back. I’m a worse coward than I thought.’ He sniffed to hold back a tear but choked himself instead, ‘I’ve taken a fancy to you since the first day we met. Seven years, two thousand days, two thousand opportunities but I blew all of them.’ He shook his head as grief swept over him in twinges, ‘How did this happen? Why did I even let this happen?’

In the noiseless whimpers Thomas’ hand found Manuel’s leathery one and as their fingers locked, while feeling his warm skin, Manuel whispered in a strangled voice, ‘You are the love of my life, past and present, and future as well. I can assure you that cause I know I won’t meet anyone like you ever again and there won’t be anyone who can stir up my feelings like you ever did. This is what’s in my mind every second I’m with you. I’m sorry I only tell you this until the last minute. God I can’t lose you…’

He held Thomas’ hand in his cupped hands while gently caressed it against his hot, wet skin, leaving a soft kiss on the back of his hand, tasting his own salty tears. As he wallowed in remorse with subdued sobs, Thomas blinked thoughtfully, a mischievous smirk curving his lips. A glistening sparkle in his eyes promised his rallying. He gave Manuel a gentle pinch on the palm and ventured, ‘Can you lean down a bit so that I can will my last words to you?’

Manuel took a deep sniff to suppress a sob, ‘Okay, I’m listening.’

With a blissful smile illuminating his face, Thomas flung his arm around Manuel’s nape to prop himself up a little bit, and leaned into his cradle before enunciating in a clear voice, ‘I didn’t get hit.’

Manuel was floored with a vacant look. He literally froze for a second, ‘You didn’t get hit?’ he parroted blankly, his face a bit robotic with a trace of bewilderment flickering through his blue eyes. Thomas hummed in answer to his question. To smooth his doubts, Thomas produced the watch which was given by Manuel as a birthday gift from his pocket. A bullet was thrust deeply into the brassy shell of the watch, which hindered it from advancing to pierce through his heart. Under the gleaming shimmers of moonlight Manuel felt himself kissed by warmth and found it remarkably lovable once he saw that pocket watch reflecting golden beams.

‘You didn’t get hit!’ He cried from the bottom of his heart, leaning forward and cradling Thomas closely in his arms, burying his head against his shoulder whilst feverishly pecking him on the cheeks. ‘Oh you didn’t get hit! Thank god you are alright!’ He broke into a tearful laugh but was soon totally speechless with exhilaration. His lips trembled uncontrollably and so was his whole body. For minutes he just quietly nestled against Thomas, feeling the warmth of his skin and the smell of his hair and the gentle touch of his fingers as Thomas caressed his back, letting his mild breath brush against his face once again like a light refreshing breeze whilst he wept tears of joy.

While his whimpers subsided to soft breath, Manuel slowly regained his sense and was finally able to think rationally, ‘Wait, you didn’t get hit… You lied to me, you little prick!’ Manuel yelled, giving him a shove on the chest.

‘Hey! But the blast still caused pain.’ Thomas winced. Back then he was completely overcome by paroxysms of guilt when Manuel cried against his shoulder, but now it seemed that the twinges of remorse were all swept off from his head along with the intention to make a heartfelt apology as another round of squabbles between them appeared to be on the way. But remarkably, in the end they spontaneously came to compromise this time as each yielded a step back and decided to just drop this.

‘I’m sorry.’ Manuel murmured, ashamed of his recklessness, holding out a hand for Thomas to help him to his feet. His cheeks grew crimson instantly when their fingers once again interlaced with one another.

‘Where’s the big boss? Did he escape?’ asked Thomas absentmindedly as he dusted himself off with one hand while the other was still locked with Manuel’s. Had he not brought it up, it might be long forgotten by Manuel.

‘I think I hit him.’ Manuel mumbled, though he wasn’t quite certain about what he said. With a puzzled look and the eagerness to explore the ultimate fate of his enemy, he led Thomas to the deeper darkness and there in the centre of the room, lying deathly still on the cold floor was the head of the Brotherhood. Not a breath could be heard, nor a rustle. The bullet fired by Manuel in a haste pierced through his head, leaving a dull trail of blood on his forehead.

‘Okay…’ Thomas gaped down at the cold corpse, ‘Seems that you are a crack shot.’

‘Not exactly.’ murmured Manuel, ‘I aimed for his shoulder.’

The way down was seemingly interminable but with Thomas’ warm hand clasped, it wasn’t as tormenting and stifling as it had been back when he scrambled the stairs all alone. He was like a clamorous crow kept babbling about what he saw on the way here and Thomas just faintly smiled at him, indulging his every piece of nonsense. _Just like the old times, but conversely, maybe._

‘I saw the shark pool.’ Manuel muttered, ‘It looks a bit of eerie. But I haven’t got the chance to take a better look cause some guy just fired a shot at that time.’

Thomas dragged Manuel to an abrupt halt, ‘Wait, you mean you were there before they left for you?’

Manuel was a bit of stunned by the urgency in his voice, ‘Yeah, positive.’ Said him discreetly in a whisper, ‘But what’s the point of that?’

‘So he might be alive!’ Thomas cried happily, running down the stairs in urgent paces as his heart was thumping with excitement, ‘Mats! Mats! Are you there?’ He shouted, his voice echoing within the four walls. Thomas held his breath for an answer and after what seemed like ages there finally came a familiar but somewhat muffled voice.

‘Down there.’ Mats breathed a heavy sigh. His voice resonated in the long metallic tube which stretched down to the shark pool. ‘Could someone please get me outta here? I’m stuck.’

Mats was rescued out of the tube by a squad of firemen and Thomas flung himself into his arms on seeing his friend back to the ground safe and sound. The big robust guy gently patted the back of his friend, clearly he as well, was glad to see his friend survived the peril.

‘This must be a miracle!’ Thomas panted heavily with joy, ‘How come you survive, after they dumped you in that damn tube?’

Mats shrugged indifferently, ‘Well, thankfully I have a big head which miraculously got me stuck there so that I didn’t fall into the pool in a silky movement and became their feed like my predecessors.’

Manuel couldn’t hold back an exclamation. Curious as he was, Mats still remained a courteous gesture as he cast an inquiring look at Manuel, ‘Excuse me, who are you?’

‘Oh, that’s Manuel, my roommate, with whom I have regular sex.’ Thomas chimed in before Manuel could respond, which earned him a rather deprecating stare.

‘I’m his boyfriend.’ Manuel added, gazing at Thomas as a soft smile tugged his lips and finding himself faced with a lopsided one.

‘That is sick.’ Mats faked a shiver and stuck out his tongue, ‘I might as well crawl back to my tube. At least I’ll not be forced to see you guys eyeing up each other.’

They rode a police van back to the station where Benedikt already awaited and there they took their respective statements. While listening to Manuel’s recapitulation Benedikt’s features slowly hardened and descended from bemusement into utter astonishment. He was totally speechless with amazement as he stood there in awe with an open mouth, gaping at Manuel, unnoticed of a stack of files collapsing into a mess when his hands involuntarily rummaged around on the table.

‘You are suggesting this whole thing is a trap? All to lure you to their place and kill Thomas in your presence?’

‘Exactly.’

‘But why would he do that?’

‘Let’s just say that’s my debt to pay.’ Manuel sighed, ‘He wanted a talion.’

‘A talion…?’ murmured Benedikt vacantly. After a beat of silence he decided to pass this topic when seeing the gloomy shadow on Manuel’s face and steer their conversation to another subject, ‘What about your client? That Mr. Lewandowski? He’s part of the trap. The likelihood is that he’s also one of them, that Brotherhood.’

Manuel bit his lips reflectively as he pondered on Benedikt’s theory. ‘I don’t think he has anything to do with the Brotherhood. If he does, then why bother leaving those two letters at his apartment after he left for his parent’s house? Granted, they used him. He’s the technician of a big company. That could make him a target.’ An instant later he opened his mouth again as a flashback crossed his mind, ‘But I do remember he once talked about an e-pal. He said that it was that guy who recommended him to come to me. Let’s see if we can track down this guy. And speaking of this, now we chance to have a skilled technician here, the one out there with Thomas, see? You can ask him for a little help.’

Benedikt craned his neck to see the guy with dark curls who was now chatting eagerly with his friend in the waiting area. He wasn’t sure if it was his illusion but he felt that this guy flashed quick glimpses at him several times. Outwardly the guy was heavily-built but with soft features in contrast and a remarkably big head, his hair fluffy and ruffled and as messy as a nest, which, in Benedikt’s view, showed no sign of promise.

‘For the love of god! That guy?’ He exclaimed in disbelief, ‘Seriously? That geek?’

‘But that geek helped us locate their den and according to Thomas he’s an adept so I guess it will do. At least give it a try.’

Benedikt caved in, ‘Whatever. I gotta think it over before I could make a decision.’

When Manuel left Benedikt’s office he found Thomas still in a heated chat with Mats. He gestured at his boyfriend and was returned with a hasty wave from Thomas. ‘Wait.’ The younger man called to him before turning back to his friend, ‘Mats, you can come lodge with us if you haven’t had residence yet.’

‘That’s pretty nice. But here I have some… private issues to sort out so you guys better go back now. I’ll come to you after.’

Thomas quirked his eyebrows, ‘What kind of private issues?’ He soon unravelled the mystery with a chuckle ensued when he noticed a frenzy of desire registering on Mats’ face as he leaned forward and gazed intently at Benedikt.

‘What?’ Mats grumbled, ‘He’s my type.’

‘Well then, good luck, Romeo.’ Thomas giggled, giving him a gentle pat before trotting to Manuel in brisk paces.

It was past midnight when they walked out of the station. The street was clear of sounds except for the rustles and crisp splashes as they trod on the puddles. Their hair was dampened by the drizzle which was not unusually seen on a late spring night. For the better of the ramble they remained completely silent. Therefore Manuel was a bit of astounded when Thomas struck a cough to attract his attention as they passed a showcase where lights were still illuminating.

‘I’m sorry for hoaxing you in this way.’ He whispered.

‘It’s nothing. All pales into insignificance when compared to your safety.’

‘Nonetheless it’s a bit of improper… crossing the line, you know. But all I can say is that I don’t think you are a coward and that oh–’ He was silenced by a sudden kiss. Standing in the cold mizzle, surprisingly he felt a stream of warmth down to his spine as the rain hit him on the face. As his cheeks were aglow with emotions he could care no more and flung his arms around Manuel while the big man’s mighty hands snaked up and down on his back, tiptoeing a step forward as if they were tangoing. Manuel sucked the bottom lip of the young man with a feverish thirst and stuck out his tongue to feel the warmth inside Thomas’ mouth craving for every inch inside him as if it had been the first time they met each other after years of separation, like what that summer night did to them.

‘Will you say yes if I propose to you?’ Manuel ventured with an intent gaze the instant they parted from necking, his voice shaky due to excitement and the chill brought by the freezing drizzle, which, at the present moment, flowed faster than before.

‘As long as you dare ask.’

‘Okay, here I’m asking you, Thomas Müller–’ He shouted to make himself heard in the heavy rain coming down in thundering torrents, ‘–to tie the knot with me. Will you take it?’

With a curtain of torrents between them Manuel couldn’t see his face clearly but the quick movements of his mouth, nonetheless what he said was as distinct as a tinkle in an empty hall.

‘Seven years and now you finally muster up the strength to pull the trigger?’ said him jokingly. Manuel held his breath and waited in a fever of excitement. An instant later here came an answer in a soft, but firm voice.

‘I say yes.’

By the time they got back they were completely drenched with chill rain as if they had just had a swim. But it couldn’t put a damper on their thirst for fondling and snogging even though they were already soaked through. Manuel shoved Thomas against the door and with a loud bang and a short gasp of emotion, they started necking intimately the second they were back in their love nest. His hand caressed Thomas’ small and crept down along his side like a snake to the inside of his thighs, feeling the bulge between them.

‘Do you think our bathtub is big enough for two guys?’ asked Thomas in between heavy puffs and pants. He didn’t like it when the sodden fabrics all clung to his skin.

‘Dunno. But I guess we can make it.’

It turned out the bathtub was not that small and shallow as Thomas thought but on the other hand it was not as big as Manuel positively imagined. They knelt in the hot waters coming up to a bit higher than the kneecaps as Thomas braced himself against the whitewashed wall, his back bent in an elegant curve. Manuel held him from behind, his head resting on Thomas’ shoulder whilst he feverishly kissed his collarbones as his lips brushed against his moist skin. With a moan of pleasure Thomas yanked his head high to expose a sleek line outlining his strong profile when Manuel thrust his cock inside his bottom. As the warm air wafted around them, they both felt like their blood racing to the top to a rhythm of passion and that they could always lust for more.

‘Please don’t stop.’ Thomas pleaded in whispers.

Manuel breathed a mild chuckle and mutely gave him an answer with another mighty deep thrust to the prostate, which ensued a heavy gasp from the bottom of Thomas’ throat which sounded like a call from an abyss. His hand slid down along the curve of Thomas’ side and at last rest on the young man’s abdomen. He felt it tightened under a hard slam accompanied by a spurt. Shrouded in swirls of steam, Thomas was wilting as the heat brushed against his skin and leaned back against Manuel’s shoulder limp and exhausted.

‘Tired?’ murmured Manuel by his ear, biting his ear lobe in an intimate manner.

Thomas let out a faint laugh. ‘The time comes when I’m in aesthetic need of your sturdy pecs. I miss the feeling of sleeping on them.’

‘Well then, come here babe.’ With a gurgle as the waves sloshed around him, Manuel sat down in the hot waters and flung his arms open for Thomas to rest comfortably on his chest while he lay propped against the bevel of the bathtub. Lying in tranquillity with only waters brushing against their skin to soothe the exhaustion, Manuel was relieved that with his love safely by his side his mind could finally settle down a bit after a train of nerve-racking events in the past days. That feeling of relief and serenity rippled over him to his every inch, which he hadn’t experienced for years ever since he took up this job.

‘How come you also get involved with the Brotherhood?’ Thomas blurted out a moment later, dreamily staring at the moist wall through dazed half-opened eyes. There was a beat of silence before an unsteady voice came out.

‘Don’t ask. That’s not your burden to bear.’

‘And why is that?’

‘I can’t tell. Let’s just say it’s something I prefer to leave it behind and I don’t want you to be plagued by it as well.’

From the melancholy guttering in his gloomy blue eyes Thomas saw something rendering his heart quivering with mixed emotions, which probably was the reason why he chose to let it go instead of pumping for an answer like he always did. ‘Then it is,’ he caved in, ‘let’s seal it up like it never happened.’

With a hearty giggle tinkling in the air, Manuel planted a quick peck on his cheeks, ‘Oh, I’m glad you finally mature.’

‘Hey! That’s unfair.’ Thomas protested, which earned him a chuckle from Manuel, ‘And to warn you, I can take you down single-handedly like what I did with the guy who kidnapped me so you better watch out.’

‘Might I ask how you managed to strike him down and get down to that room?’ inquired Manuel with benevolent interest.

‘Well, easy peasy since I’m not a three-year-old.’

As he narrated his adventures Manuel’s features stiffened with each twist in the story. Thomas’ narration confirmed his theory that this whole thing was an elaborate trap, all to lure him to their place and make him experience what that broken man had suffered two years ago. Löw’s plan worked like a charm and he was close to tasting the sweet smell of success had he not underestimated Manuel’s decisive resolution in protecting his love.

And that he was a bad shooter, probably.

He didn’t know how long he had been immersed in his mental pool but when he was finally back to reality, Thomas was dozing off against his chest with shallow breath. He curled up in a foetal position as he tapped the surface and stirred the waters with his fingers in a dreamy trance. Under the gleaming lights, when the steam slowly dispersed, he saw the maroon bruise on the left side of Thomas’ chest. It agitated the emotions inside him as a wave of anguish mixed with remorse swept over him.

‘Does it hurt?’ Manuel breathed whilst his thumb brushed across that bruise gently and carefully.

Oh hearing his voice Thomas cracked his eyes open, still dazed and drowsy, ‘No.’ He denied flatly.

A mirthless smile flickered across Manuel’s face, ‘Liar.’ He turned over to pin Thomas against the bevel and ride on him for a sloppy kiss, careful not to touch the bruise. ‘And a terrible one.’ He then added.

‘Still the better one though.’ Thomas retorted promptly, a flirtatious smirk proudly curving his lips. As Manuel gazed down at those captivating hooded eyes with mismatched colours – if he ever had hesitation before, now it was all gone – he made up his mind to quit the job as that thought bubbled to the surface and shattered with a silvery smash. _Dad was right, time to get back to the real world._

The water was already as cold as ice when they crept out of the bathtub and Manuel stayed to do the cleaning of his own accord while Thomas headed back to his small but comfy bedroom. After he finished mopping the floor and tidying up the mess in the sitting room it was past two o’clock. He stuffed the loads of dirty clothes in the washing machine but decided to let it rest for the temporary moment cause he was too weary to wait until it finished its work. And right at this moment his phone started vibrating eagerly – Benedikt sent him a message.

_–OMG, I gotta tell you, that guy, Mats, is amazing. He’s like a magician. He tracked down the guy in no more than three seconds and now we already have him in our station. Marvellous._

Manuel shook his head in chuckles on reading Benedikt’s words of admiration: Well I told you he’s an adept.

_–And then he asked me out for a drink. He said he thought me pretty charming. Can you believe it? He sure was a man of action. But that’s too quick even by my standard._

_–_ You turned him down?

_–I’m now dozing off on his muscular laps while texting you._

Manuel snorted a laugh. An instant later there came another message from the lust-driven-Benedikt.

_–He’s heaven-like I tell you. The muscles, the curls, god they are so juicy. Where on earth did you find this guy?_

–In the den of the Brotherhood. We found him stuck in a tube.

A second after the message was sent Manuel added: Just kidding. Go asking my fiancé.

– _Fiancé? Are you telling me…?_

–Yeah, I’m betrothed, about two hours ago, on the street.

– _Holy shit._

A lopsided grin tugged Manuel’s lips – Benedikt made a fuss over someone’s personal affair. That was absolutely unheard of.

He bade his friend goodnight and tossed the phone away, giving one last look out of the window when he chanced to see the street illuminated by the lightning before walking directly into Thomas’ room, where the lanky boy was sitting cosily against the headboard while reading something on his phone. His face reflected morbidly bright glitters.

‘You know what, Mats dragged Inspector Höwedes out for a drink!’ Thomas exclaimed excitedly on seeing Manuel stepped into the room, ‘It seemed that they got on like a house on fire.’

Manuel found it hard to suppress a giggle, ‘And with gallons of oil to fuel the flames.’ He jested, plopping down on the bed, pumping out an agonizing groan as the mattress creaked, ‘Still, it’s a nice thing to see them hit it off.’

Thomas hummed softly in agreement and tapped the screen in flexible moves for another moment, fully concentrated as a smirk on his face. It was not until he put down his phone that he realized that for the past minutes Manuel’s eyes had fixed on him like a pair of metallic pearls attracted to a magnet. Manuel looked immensely preoccupied and so intent was the gaze that it felt like an invisible hand to grab him from the inside and make his heart stop for a beat.

‘Why are you looking at me like this?’ asked Thomas in murmurs, ‘You have something in your mind?’

Manuel swallowed several time before he gave vent to a whisper, ‘I’m thinking about quitting this job.’

There was a pregnant pause before Thomas managed to answer, ‘You are quitting this job? You mean this–––?’ He flicked his finger between the two of them and Manuel gave him an affirmative nod. ‘But why would you? Being the crime-buster, solving all those mysteries–––that’s what you love!’

‘But it sure is full of dangers, isn’t it?’ Manuel heaved a heavy sigh, ‘We can pick on something more proper, a decent job and start a new life from scratch.’

‘I despise that way of living.’ Thomas pouted in displeasure, his voice brooking no argument, ‘And I know you do as well. By no means will I live with the boredom of confining myself in an office and facing the computer screen all day. It’s dull as dishwater.’

‘I’m not saying we all have to work in office. There are other fascinating jobs on the market.’

‘There is no match for the current one.’ Thomas retorted in a firm tone, ‘I know what bothers you but believe me it won’t happen twice as long as we work together, have each other’s back and trust each other to the hilt. Mind that I’m a crack shot, not a three-year-old. And if Mats joins us then we can make quite a trio. Well, what do you make of it, Mr. Holmes?’

A touch of uncertainty registered on Manuel’s face, ‘I need some time to mull it over.’

‘You have plenty of time to tease it out.’ With a mischievous smile Thomas threw himself at Manuel and pinned him down on the bed for a loving caress.

‘You want me to stay here for the night?’ Manuel ventured in a flirtatious voice.

‘Are you legit telling me that you intended to resign yourself to that mess? Have you seen your room?’

Not until then did Manuel recall that the Brotherhood had ruined his bedroom, thanks to the reminder. _One more task added to tomorrow’s cleaning, fabulous._

‘Then I guess I have to make do with this tiny bed.’ Manuel muttered, a soft smile touching his lips. While he glanced around he caught a glimpse of the pocket watch laid beside the pillow, a bullet shining brassy glitters maliciously stuck in its shell. Manuel felt a chill down to spine on seeing that ominous bullet, he jerked his head away as a wave of nausea overcame him and closed his eyes in apprehension.

‘What?’ Thomas sensed his unease.

‘That pocket watch. I can buy you a new one.’

‘No. I want to keep this one. It’s not completely broken yet. Tomorrow let’s go find someone to have it fixed so you don’t have to go to the expense of buying a new one.’

Manuel cocked his eyebrow in amusement, ‘Already starting to save money for our honeymoon?’

‘Since you bring it up then I guess it is a _yes_.’ said Thomas in between hearty giggles while brushing Manuel’s warm plump cheeks with his lips, ‘I fancy a trip to Italy.’

‘How about a tour across the whole Europe?’

‘That would be a tour of luxury, nonetheless it’s intriguing.’ As he murmured in an attitude of contemplation, a meaningful smile crept onto his face, ‘But are you ready to drop the work here for a month-long travel? I dare you to do it.’

Manuel broke into a light-hearted chuckle, ‘Dare me.’ He breathed the words into Thomas’ ear and kissed him fervently, grinning from ear to ear as he indulged himself in the vision of a happy wedding and the countless glorious days awaiting them in the future. 


End file.
